IC-NRLF 


IBRARY 

IVERSITY  OF 
1ALIFORNIA 
vNTA    CRUZ 


SANTA     CRUZ 


Gift  oi 

Lem  C.    Brown 


H 

3C 
m 


SANTA     CRUZ 


J 

.  a 


OLD  WIVES  FOR  NEW 


David  Graham  Phillips 


OLD  WIVES 
FOR  NEW 


A  NOVEL 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 
Publishers         :         New    York 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Published  March,  W* 


CONTENTS 


H5 

04- 


CHAPTER 

PROLOGUE        .       .       .       .       .       .       .       .1 

I. — THE  AWAKENING .22 

H.— ''WHAT  ELSE  Is  THERE?"         .       .       .       .     38 

III.— "A  GOOD  WOMAN,  Bur—"        ....     53 

IV. — "My  LIFE'S  OVER"      ......     62 

V. — SOPHY  SEEKS  A  CONFESSOR       .       .       .       .70 

VI.— "WHO'S  Miss  RAEBURN?" 86 

VII. — DANGERFIELD'S 107 

VIII.— VIOLA 123 

IX. — THE  WEDDING,  AND  AFTER        ....  146 

X. — "MARRIAGE  Is  SACRED  TO  ME"       »       .       .   158 

XI. — MOTHER  AND  SON         ......  169 

XII. — FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER 181 

XIII.— "SHE  CARES  EVEN  LESS  THAN  HE"      .       .  191 
XIV.— "WHAT  A  BEAST  You  ARE,  TOM"  .       .       .199 

XV.— DERAILED 212 

XVI.— SOPHY  FINDS  A  FRIEND      .       .       .       .        .226 
XVII. — CHARLEY'S  FIELD  GLASSES  ,  243 

XVIIL— SOPHY  AND  JULIET 264 

XIX.— "SHE  SEEMED  QUITE  CALM"     .        .        .        .275 
XX. — SOME  STRANGE  NEW  YORK  ADVENTURES        .  280 


I 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.— "A  FRIGHTFUL  MAN"  ......  304 

XXIL— FOR  NORMA'S  SAKE      .       .       ..      .       „  .316 

XXIII. — MR.  BLAGDEN  BESTIRS  HIMSELF       *       ...  .  325 

XXIV.— AND  MAKES  RAPID  PROGRESS    .       .       *  .334 

XXV. — BUT  CHARLEY  INTERVENES                 »       .,  344 

XXVL— THE  AGNES-FLEURY  CORSET      .       .       „  .357 

XXVII. — MR.  BLAGDEN'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR     .  .  371 

XXVIII.— "MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED"      .  .  381 

XXIX.1— JESSIE  AND  FLORENCE  ......  398 

XXX.— THE  STORM  BURSTS      .       .       .       „       .  .  410 

XXXI.— MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS    .       ,       .  .  427 

XXXIL— "C'EST  LA  VIE"    .        ...      .       *       /  .441 

XXXIII.— " LOVE  IN  TIGHT  SHOES"  .       .     '-V.-,  *  •  448 

XXXIV.— SOPHY  STARTS  AFRESH         .   .    .    '  ».      fc  .457 

XXXV.— THE  WILD  BIRD'S  CAGE  OPEN         ,...,.,*',  .468 

XXXVI.— VIOLA  GIVES  THE  CLEW      .       .      \    '  /  .  475 

XXXVII.— "Do  You  No  LONGER  CARE?"  .  486 


VI 


OLD  WIVES  FOR  NEW 


PROLOGUE 

AUGUST  shone  hot  and  clear  upon  the  hills  of  south 
ern  Indiana.  The  grain  had  been  cut,  and  quail  were 
gleaning  in  the  stubble,  with  a  pause  now  and  then  to 
whistle  from  the  gray  zigzag  fence.  But  the  timothy 
was  still  standing,  waist  deep ;  the  full-blown  blossoms  of 
clover,  white  and  pink,  were  scenting  the  air ;  and  down 
where  the  now  shallow  creek  bustled  along,  over  and 
among  the  stones  of  its  rocky  bed,  the  cornstalks  were 
rustling  like  so  many  ladies  in  stiff  green  Sunday  silk. 

There  was  a  path  through  the  great  hillside  meadow. 
It  began  at  the  barnyard,  where  the  thrashing  machine 
was  making  the  sweat  pour  from  a  score  of  workers,  to 
trickle  and  glisten  upon  their  sun-scorched  faces  and 
bared,  hairy  chests.  It  clove  the  sea  of  gold-tinted 
grass  straight  to  an  island  where  a  clump  of  pear  trees 
reveled  in  the  western  sun ;  thence  it  wound  down  the 
slope  to  emerge  into  the  road  along  the  creek  bottom. 
On  that  midway  island,  in  the  shade  of  the  pear  trees, 
sprawled  in  graceful  idleness  a  boy  of  seventeen,  like  a 
young  corn  and  wine  god.  His  eyes  were  full  of  dreams ; 
upon  his  handsome  features  lay  a  faint  smile  of  content 
that  it  was  summer  and  the  free  open  air,  with  youth 
rollicking  through  his  veins,  and  all  the  world  before 
him  in  the  glory  of  its  veil  of  illusion  and  hope.  His 
carelessly  roving  glance  spied  and  paused  upon  a  pale- 
blue  sunbonnet  far  away,  down  toward  the  creek  fence. 

1 


OLD    WIVES   FOR 


The  little  bonnet,  so  blue,  so  airily  light,  suggested  a 
quaint  boat  adrift  upon  that  bright  bronze  sea  ;  its  oc 
cupant  was  a  small  sweet  face,  like  a  flower  afloat  in  an 
azure  shell. 

In  this  boy,  just  then  somewhat  tardily  awakening 
to  the  sense  of  sex,  all  faces  feminine  aroused  vague 
confused  minglings  of  wonder  and  awe  and  longing  — 
now  an  impetuous  impulse  to  push  through  the  veil  of 
the  temple's  divine  mystery,  now  a  timid  and  even  fear 
ful  shrinking.  But  he  was  a  reader  and  dreamer,  this 
boy  with  the  quick,  blue-gray  eyes  and  the  tawny  skin 
and  the  splendid  shock  of  auburn  hair  ;  thus,  no  sooner 
would  he  look  at  a  woman  than  his  glance  would  turn 
impatiently  away;  he  had  compared  her  with  some 
composite  dream-woman,  evolved  from  his  picturings 
of  the  women  who  lived  for  him  in  history  and  in  ro 
mance  —  Cleopatra  and  Aspasia,  Theodora  and  a  boy's 
version  of  Messalina;  the  two  Catherines,  she  whom 
Florence  gave  to  France,  and  she  who  set  upon  her 
own  head  the  crown  of  great  Peter's  crazy,  impish 
grandson;  Dickens's  Agnes,  and  Thackeray's  Becky, 
the  woman  who  ran  away  from  her  master  in  Second 
Judges,  and  the  burning-eyed  roadside  preacher,  who 
finally  taught  slow  Adam  Bede  the  meaning  of  love. 
She  was  tall,  this  composite  woman  of  the  boy's  dream  ; 
and  she  had  masses  of  golden  hair,  and  a  white  robe 
with  a  purple  cord  at  the  waist,  a  robe  that  was  flow 
ing  yet  clung  to  her  figure.  A  proud,  haughty 
woman,  one  he  would  be  afraid  to  approach  ;  yet  she 
would  somehow  hearten  and  compel  him  to  —  to  —  he  did 
not  know  just  what;  some  restrained  kind  of  worship, 
for  he  had  not  got  so  far  as  to  venture  to  think  of 
touching,  of  kissing  her. 

The  tiny,  pale-blue  boat  with  its  interesting  pas- 


PROLOGUE 


senger  was  floating  nearer  and  nearer  on  the  surface 
of  that  sea  of  emerald  and  gold.  The  tresses  that 
curled  between  the  rim  of  the  sunbonnet  and  the  soft, 
graceful  contour  of  the  small  face  were  of  the  shade 
of  ripe  wheat  when  the  sun  shines  on  it.  The  eyes 
were  blue,  like  his  own,  but  a  deeper,  gentler  blue,  like 
the  sky,  as  you  look  straight  up  into  it  when  there  are 
no  clouds.  It  was  the  face  of  a  child  who  was  also  a 
woman — a  child  waiting  to  be  awakened  with  a  kiss 
into  womanhood.  The  boy's  face  had  the  masculine 
comeliness  of  clearness  of  skin  and  strength  of  line  and 
steadiness  and  intelligence  of  gaze.  The  girl  was  beau 
tiful  with  that  wonderful  beauty  of  youth — youth  of 
the  smooth,  electric  skin,  youth  of  the  lips  like  petals 
of  a  rose,  youth  of  feeling  free  from  the  taint  of 
thought.  And  now  she  was  standing  straight  and  slim 
before  him — and  he  did  not,  could  not,  turn  his  gaze 
away.  She  was  utterly  unlike  the  woman  of  his  dreams. 
That  woman  compelled  him  to  look  up,  was  woman  the 
goddess.  Here  was  woman  the  flower,  to  be  plucked 
and  worn.  He  was  at  ease  with  her  because  he  felt 
stronger  and  superior. 

The  sun  glistened  upon  her,  upon  the  pale-blue 
sunbonnet,  upon  her  little  round  chin,  upon  her  round 
white  throat  left  bare  by  her  simple,  single  dress  of 
blue  like  the  bonnet,  and  evidently  off  the  same  bolt  of 
calico.  The  dress  came  only  to  her  elbows  and  to  her 
knees.  Her  arms,  her  legs,  her  hands  and  feet  were 
bare,  and  had  been  tinted  a  delicate  golden  brown  by 
the  sun.  Slim  wrists  and  ankles,  small  but  rounded 
arms  and  legs,  a  slender,  supple  waist;  the  shoulders 
broad  and  strong — the  shoulders  of  the  woman  who  is 
the  mother  born. 

The  boy  flushed  and  tried  to  look  away,  yet  could 
3 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

not.  He  longed  to  say,  "  I  love  you !  "  He  longed  to 
take  her  in  his  arms  strongly,  and  to  kiss  her —  He 
blushed  still  more  deeply,  and  could  not  even  rise,  but 
lay  resting  upon  his  elbow  and  gazing  and  blushing. 
The  girl  seemed  to  understand,  as  children  do  who 
from  babyhood  have  been  used  to  being  looked  at  be 
cause  of  their  beauty. 

"  I  heard  the  pears  were  ripe  up  here,"  said  she. 

Her  voice  sounded  in  his  ears  like  a  strain  of  music ; 
her  words  seemed  full  of  delicious  meaning,  like  a  plain 
mask  that  hides  a  ravishing  mystery  of  beauty  and  ro 
mance.  "  Pears?  "  said  he,  awkwardly.  "  Help  your 
self." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  so ! "  retorted  she,  with  a 
mocking  smile  and  a  toss  of  the  head  that  freed  it  of 
the  sunbonnet.  Her  hair  was  not  in  braids  down  her 
back,  but  was  done  up  in  a  soft  roll  like  a  crown.  The 
boy  thrilled,  flushed,  looked  hastily  away  lest  longing 
might  thrust  him  where  he  would  not  have  the  cour 
age  to  stay. 

"  My  uncle  owns  this  farm,"  he  explained. 

"  But  my  father  rents  it." 

"  Oh!     Then  you  are  Joel  Baker's  daughter?  " 

She  laughed;  very  white  and  even  were  her  teeth, 
and  the  inside  of  her  mouth  was  as  rosy  and  fresh 
as  her  lips.  "Yes,  I'm  Sophy  Baker — the  youngest 
of  the  eleven." 

"  My  name's  " — the  boy,  or  rather,  the  youth,  be 
gan,  for  he  was  now  a  youth  and  no  longer  the  boy 
who,  half  a  brief  hour  before,  had  stretched  out  there 
to  dream. 

"  I  know  you,"  she  interrupted,  and  she  glanced 
at  his  white  flannel  suit,  the  mark  of  the  city  to  the 
people  of  that  region  in  those  days. 

4 


PROLOGUE ! 

He  was  on  his  feet  now,  was  gathering  ripe  pears 
from  the  ground,  taking  care  to  select  only  the  ripest 
that  were  also  most  attractive  to  the  eye.  She  seated 
herself  where  he  had  been  lying,  her  legs  curled  up 
under  her  skirt.  "  My,  but  it's  hot !  "  she  exclaimed, 
tucking  in  her  dress  a  little  farther  at  the  throat. 

He  thrilled  at  the  remark  as  if  it  had  been  won 
drous  wise — and  surely,  more  profound  than  the  bot 
tom  of  wisdom's  deepest  veil  is  the  mere  sound  of  the 
right  voice  at  the  right  time.  "  There  you  are !  "  said 
he,  holding  toward  her  a  double  handful  of  the  little 
pears  that  were  as  sweet  as  strained  honey. 

Sfi  Drop  them,"  cried  she,  holding  up  her  skirt  to 
catch.  "  Why  do  you  blush  all  the  time?  " 

"  I  didn't — till  I  saw  you"  replied  he  boldly.  i 

She  was  not  old  enough  in  coquetry  to  conceal  her 
pleasure.  "  You  don't  mean  it,"  said  she.  j 

He  sat  close  to  her.  "  Why  aren't  you  eating?  "  he 
asked. 

She  buried  her  white  teeth  in  the  largest  and  rip 
est  of  the  pears.  The  sight  gave  him  a  sensation  of 
delight  that  was  also  pain.  "  There  you  go  again — 
blushing,"  cried  she. 

For  answer,  he  put  his  arm  round  her,  and  kissed 
her.  She  frowned,  blushed,  laughed,  pushed  him  away; 
as  he  kissed  her  again,  there  came  into  her  eyes  a  sud 
den  soft  glow,  and  then  she  veiled  them.  "  Go  away," 
she  said  pleadingly,  almost  a  sob  in  her  voice.  "  Go 
away,"  she  repeated,  and  from  her  long  lashes  fell  two 
big  tears.  He  shrank  before  this  new  revelation  of  the 
mystery  feminine. 

"  I — I — I'm  sorry,"  he  muttered. 

She  was  smiling  through  her  tears.  At  their  age 
the  girls  are  bolder  than  the  boys;  she  saw  she  had 

5 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

unduly  alarmed  him.  "You  ought  to  be,"  said  she 
mildly.  "  You  didn't  look  like  that  sort  of  a  fellow." 
She  ate  a  pear  in  silence,  watching  his  embarrassed, 
ashamed  face.  "  Still — I  reckon  you  felt  just  as  I 
did,"  she  resumed. 

He  glanced  at  her  in  wondering  inquiry. 

"  As  soon  as  I  saw  you,  I  wanted  you  to,"  she  ex 
plained.  As  she  finished  one  pear  and  took  another  she 
added,  "  And  I  never  felt  that  way  before." 

"  Didn't  anybody  ever  kiss  you  before  ?  "  he  asked 
hopefully. 

"  Lots  and  lots  of  times."  When  she  had  suffi 
ciently  enj  oyed  his  discontent,  she  went  on,  "  In  games 
— and  that  don't  count." 

"Games?" 

"  Kissing  games." 

"  Oh !  "  he  said ;  but  it  was  plain  he  did  not  under 
stand. 

"  Didn't  you  ever  play  ?  " 

He  blushed  again,  this  time  for  his  own  evidently 
dense  ignorance. 

"  Why,  where  do  you  go  to  church  ?  "  cried  she, 
amazed.  Then,  "  Oh,  I  suppose  you're  Presbyterian 
or  'Piscopalian.  They  don't  have  kissing  games  at  the 
sociables.  Well,  as  ma  says,  the  Presbyterians  may  be 
tonier  in  this  world,  but  it's  being  tony  in  the  next 
world  that  counts." 

He  was  sensitive  about  words ;  but  "  tony "  fell 
from  those  lips  as  free  from  taint  as  a  new  coin 
just  dropped  from  the  die.  "  No,  we're  Methodists," 
said  he. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  The  Methodists  are  most  as 
good  as  we  are." 

"  Are  you  Baptists  ?  " 

6 


PROLOGUE 


"  Not  much !  "  said  ske  contemptuously.  "  We're 
Christians." 

"Christians?" 

"  Disciples  of  Christ.  Some  " — scornfully — "  call 
us  Campbellites." 

"  Oh — of  course." 

And  their  conversation  ended  abruptly.  They  had 
but  the  one  topic  in  common,  and  of  that  they  dared 
not  talk  even  to  the  limited  extent  which  their  lack  of 
experience  permitted. 

"  Going  to  stay  long?  "  she  asked,  eating  the  last 
pear  slowly,  because  when  it  should  be  finished  there 
would  be  nothing  between  them  and  motionless  silence. 

"  I  was  going  home  next  week,"  replied  he.  "  But  I 
don't  have  to." 

A  reflective  pause.  Then  the  girl :  "  I'd  never  marry 
anybody  but  a  Campbellite — I  mean  a  Christian.  I'd 
be  afraid  we'd  not  meet — over  there." 

"  Will  only  Campbellites  go  to  heaven  ?  " 

"  I  hope  not.     But  it  looks  that  way  to  pa  and  ma." 

"  We  think  that  all  denominations — even  the  Catho 
lics — maybe  the  Jews — will  go.  Only  there'll  be  differ 
ent  kinds  of  heavens." 

She  sighed.  "  If  I  thought  that,  I'd  like  to  go  to 
most  any  kind  but  Campbellite." 

"  I've  never  heard  of  a  heaven  that  I'd  change  for 
this  earth,"  said  he  audaciously. 

"  Sh-h !  "  she  exclaimed — a  perfunctory  rebuke. 
"  You  mustn't  talk  that  way." 

"  But  I  can't  help  thinking  that  way,  any  more  than 
I  could  help — "  a  furious  blush — "  loving  a  Jew  or — a 
— a — Campbellite." 

"  I  like  that  \  "  cried  she.  "  Putting  me  in  with 
Jews." 

7 


OLD   WIVES   FOB   NEW 

"  But  I  like  Jews.  My  best  friend  at  home  in  Indi 
anapolis  is  a  Jew." 

"  I  never  saw  a  Jew — except  Cohen — he's  the  ped 
dler.  Maybe  he's  a  gypsy,  because  he  has  rings  in  his 
ears."  She  complacently  smoothed  the  skirt  of  her  pale- 
blue  frock.  "  Ma  got  the  goods  this  is  made  of  from 
him.  And  these  stock — "  She  thrust  out  one  slender, 
smooth  bare  leg,  rosy  white  above  the  line  of  sunburn. 
Her  foot  was  small  and  perfectly  formed.  It  was  her 
turn  to  blush.  "  I  forgot,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  I 
don't  often  go  barefoot."  And  the  foot  and  ankle  and 
leg  went  back  out  of  sight  beneath  the  skirt. 

"  They're  very  brown,"  suggested  he  tactlessly. 

She  looked  caught,  tried  to  save  herself  with,  "  You 
don't  know  how  easily  I  tan."  And  then  she  hastened 
to  shift  the  subject  by  asking,  "  Do  you  go  barefoot?  " 

"  No,"  replied  he,  with  embarrassment.  He  was 
afraid  to  confess  that  he  had  never  gone  barefoot ;  she 
might  think  he  was  posing  as  superior. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  let's  do."  She  rose  to  one  knee, 
tossed  her  sunbonnet  on  her  mass  of  hair.  "  Let's  go 
wading.  I  know  a  place  where  the  creek's  deep  and 
almost  sandy  at  the  bottom." 

Both  were  standing  now.  He  was  a  head  the  taller ; 
as  he  looked  down  at  her,  she  lowered  her  face  until  he 
could  see  only  the  crown  of  the  sunbonnet.  Suddenly 
she  whisked  it  off,  and  her  eyes  challenged  his  longing. 
Before  he  could  accept,  "  Let's  race !  "  she  cried,  and 
was  speeding  down  the  grassy  path  like  a  fleeing  nymph. 
He  pursued,  but  he  had  no  desire  to  overtake  her.  He 
preferred  to  be  a  few  yards  behind,  where  he  could 
watch  her  as  she  ran,  the  movements  of  her  lithe,  young 
body,  her  hair  frolicking  and  streaming  in  the  wind. 
She  looked  back  at  him  when  they  neared  the  creek  fence. 

8 


PROLOGUE 


Her  laughing  eyes,  her  flushed  cheeks —  He  dashed  for 
ward,  caught  her,  for  one  instant  had  her  trembling, 
throbbing  form  passive  in  his  arms.  She  began  to  exert 
all  her  strength  to  free  herself.  At  first  he  was  afraid 
he  would  hurt  her ;  then,  as  he  realized  how  strong  and 
supple  she  was,  that  fear  gave  way  to  a  desire  to  con 
quer  ;  and  in  her  eyes  laughing  up  at  him,  in  her  breath 
upon  his  cheek,  in  the  quick  pulse  of  her  blood,  he 
felt  her  desire  to  be  conquered  after  a  struggle — 
that  she  was  resisting  not  to  overcome  but  to  make  her 
happiness  and  his  own  the  greater  when  his  strength 
should  slowly  triumph  over  hers,  and  she,  helpless  in 
his  arms,  should  yield  the  kiss  that  was  the  reward  and 
the  penalty. 

He  slipped  in  the  tangled,  trodden  grass ;  he  released 
her,  fell,  lay  looking  up  at  her.  But  she  did  not  laugh 
and  taunt  him  and  gloat  over  him.  Her  eyes  were  sud 
denly  sad,  almost  to  tears.  "  If  you  hadn't  had  on 
shoes,"  said  she  consolingly. 

He  drew  himself  to  a  sitting  posture.  It  was  de 
lightful  there  on  the  warm  grass  from  which  the  sun  was 
drawing  a  powerful  perfume.  He  felt  a  languor  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  exertion  he  had  made.  She  perched 
on  the  top  rail  of  the  zigzag  fence  and  busied  herself 
tightening  the  loosened  coil  of  her  hair.  She  glanced 
at  him;  the  color  poured  into  her  face,  suffused  her 
cheeks.  Her  fingers  faltered,  missed  their  way  among 
her  thick  locks.  Longing  conquered  his  shyness  and 
fear.  He  rose,  put  his  arms  round  her.  She  did  not 
resist. 

"  You'll  give  me  the  forfeit,  anyway,"  he  said. 

She  slowly  lifted  her  eyes  until  they  were  gazing 
straight  into  his.  "  Yes,"  she  answered  softly. 

He  did  not  kiss  her.  Instead,  each  continued  to 
2  9 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

gaze  into  the  other's  eyes.  The  blazing  sun  stung  their 
vigorous  young  bodies ;  the  call  of  the  birds  seemed  the 
intense  passionate  cry  of  their  hearts.  Their  lips  met. 
His  arms  tightened  about  her,  and  she  let  herself  slide 
from  her  perch  until  he  was  holding  her.  One  of  her 
arms  was  locked  in  one  of  his,  the  other  was  round  his 
neck.  "  Sophy !  "  he  murmured.  And  now  they  were 
looking  gravely  each  at  the  other.  She  drew  away,  shyly( 
began  to  close  her  dress  at  the  throat. 

"No!  No !"  he  cried.  "  Sophy,  I  love  you !"  And 
he  kissed  her  protesting  fingers  until  they  ceased  to  bar 
the  way  and  were  fluttering  through  his  hair,  while  his 
lips  touched  her  white  neck,  her  throat,  her  cheeks,  her 
lips. 

"  Don't ! "  she  pleaded,  her  voice  choked  with  a  sob. 
And  again  the  big  tears  glittered  in  her  long  lashes. 

66 1  love  you,  Sophy.     Do  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  she  answered,  hiding  her 
face  in  his  shoulder. 

The  fierce  rapping  of  a  yellow-hammer  in  the  walnut 
tree  above  their  heads  startled  them.  In  silence  they 
climbed  the  fence,  descended  to  the  creek.  The  woods 
seemed  a  temple;  and  they,  two  worshipers  moving 
along  the  aisle  toward  the  altar. 

"  It's  farther  up — the  place  I  meant,"  said  she  in 
the  low  voice  people  use  instinctively  in  cathedrals. 

He  followed  her  until  they  came  to  a  grassy  bank 
overhanging  a  pool.  "  Is  this  it?  "  he  asked.  They 
were  gazing  each  at  the  reflection  of  the  other  in  the 
dark  quiet  water. 

"  Yes.  You  can  take  off  your  shoes  and  stockings  in 
the  grass  here." 

He  sat  and  took  them  off,  Sophy  watching  him. 
"  How  white  your  feet  are,"  said  she. 

10 


PROLOGUE 


"  Not  so  white  as  you,  where  the  sun  hasn't  tanned 
you." 

"  But  you're  white  like  a  woman." 

"  So's  everybody,"  retorted  he,  not  quite  sure 
whether  she  meant  it  as  a  compliment,  not  quite  sure 
that  he  liked  it,  even  if  she  did. 

Sophy  seemed  not  to  hear.  "  I  thought  I'd  be  afraid 
of  you,"  she  went  on. 

"Why?" 

"  They  all  said  you  were  so  smart." 

"  And  you  see  I'm  not."    He  laughed. 

"  No,  not  a  bit.  You're —  I  was  going  to  say  you 
were  like  the  rest  of  the  boys.  But " — with  a  quick 
glance  and  a  little  color — "  you're  not.  No,  you're  not 
a  bit  like  them.  I'd  do  anything  you  said.  I  guess  you 
are  smart.  I'm  afraid  you'll —  You  see,  I  ain't  a  bit 
smart,  not  even  at  baking  and  doing  housework." 

"  Sophy !  "  He  wasn't  listening  to  what  she  was 
saying.  He  had  been  drawn  close  to  her  by  the  note  in 
her  voice  that  seemed  to  be  drawing  him  to  her.  His 
arms  went  round  her.  "  You're  so  beautiful,  Sophy." 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so.  Everybody  always  said  I 
was.  You  won't  mind  because  I'm  not  smart?  " 

"  But  you  are ! "  he  cried.  "  And — if  you 
weren't — "  He  finished  with  a  kiss.  They  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  bank  and  trailed  their  feet  in  the  water. 
And  after  a  while  he  rolled  up  his  trousers,  she  twisted 
in  the  folds  of  her  skirt,  and  they  waded.  The  bottom 
of  the  creek  was  gravel  rather  than  sand,  and  the  sharp 
stones  bruised  his  feet.  But  the  coolness  of  the  water, 
the  sense  of  freedom,  and  of  her  nearness —  Watching 
the  water  just  miss  the  edge  of  her  skirts,  he  did  not  in 
the  least  mind  the  bruises.  There  were  great  flat  stones 
in  the  bottom  of  the  pool,  with  crawfish  under  them  and 

11 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

now  and  then  a  big  minnow.  She  tucked  her  skirts  close 
round  her  legs  and  pinned  them ;  he  rolled  his  trousers 
far  above  his  knees  and  his  sleeves  to  his  shoulders. 
They  waded  and  splashed  and  turned  stones  ;  they  chased 
and  caught  and  gingerly  lifted  the  awkward,  squirming 
crawfish.  And  the  sun  slowly  descended  until  it  was 
streaming  great  level  shafts  of  gentle  golden  light 
through  the  foliage. 

"  My,  but  it  must  be  late !  "  exclaimed  she. 

He  glanced  at  the  sun.  "  About  four  o'clock,  I 
guess."  Then  the  idea  of  separation  came  like  a  sudden 
falling  of  dusk.  "  That's  not  late." 

"  I  must  go  home,"  sighed  she,  her  sweet  face  over 
cast. 

They  sat  on  the  bank  again.  He  unwound  the  strip 
of  gray  silk  that  served  him  as  a  belt.  "  Let  me  dry 
your  feet,"  said  he.  She  held  up  one  long  slim  leg  and 
he  drew  the  silk  over  it  softly,  lingeringly.  "  What 
pretty  feet  you  have !  " 

She  turned  her  arched  foot  sideways  and  glanced  at 
it  critically.  "  Most  feet  are  so  ugly,"  said  she.  Then 
she  added :  "  But  not  yours." 

"  Oh,  they'll  do,"  replied  he,  busy  now  with  her  other 
foot.  When  he  had  finished,  he  bent  and  kissed  her  in 
step.  "  May  I  come  to  see  you  after  supper? "  he 
asked.  "  It's  only  a  little  ways  from  my  uncle's  to  your 
house." 

"  Not  to-night.  We've  got  the  harvest  hands,  and 
I  have  to  work  till  bedtime.  Pa  don't  allow  anybody  to 
sit  up  after  he  goes  to  bed." 

"  Then — to-morrow?  " 

"  Yes — to-morrow."  She  sighed.  "  That  seems  a 
long  way  off,  don't  it  ?  " 

"Couldn't  I  come  to-night?  " 


PROLOGUE 


"  No — you  mustn't."  She  seemed  very  young,  child 
ish,  again.  "  You  don't  know  how  strict  father  is.  I'll 
catch  it  for  staying  away  this  long." 

"  To-morrow." 

"  Up  by  the  pear  trees.  I  can  come  about  nine,  I 
reckon.  But  not  for  long.  When  did  you  say  you  were 
going  away  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  have  to  go  back  to  school 
for " 

"  Oh,  do  you  still  go  to  school?  " 

66  Yes — years  yet." 

"Ain't  that  dreadful!" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind." 

"  That's  so.  You're  smart.  Are  you  going  to  be  a 
preacher  ?  " 

"  Mother  wants  me  to.    But  I " 

"  You'd  better  be.  It's  a  nice  business.  You  sit 
round  dressed  up  all  the  time.  And  when  you  come, 
everybody's  glad,  and  they  kill  the  best  chickens,  and 
have  everything  good  to  eat."  Her  eyes  sparkled,  her 
rosy  lips  seemed  rosier,  her  white,  sharp  teeth  whiter 
and  sharper.  "  Yes,  I'd  like  you  to  be  a  preacher." 

"  I  thought  I'd  be  a  lawyer." 

"  That's  nice,  too.  You  weren't  made  to  work. 
Smart  people  never  do.  I've  noticed  that.  They  make 
other  people  work  and  give  them  the  money." 

She  stood  up.  He  looked  at  her.  On  a  swift  im 
pulse,  he  rose  to  his  knees,  caught  her  round  the  waist. 
"  How  pretty  you  are !  "  he  cried,  kissing  her  waist,  her 
bare  forearms,  the  palms  of  the  restraining  hands  she 
laid  upon  his  face.  "  How  beautiful !  " 

"  Don't,"  she  murmured,  crimson.  "  You  make  me 
feel — ashamed." 

"  Ashamed !  "  he  exclaimed.    "  Sophy " 

13 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  No — not  just  that,"  she  interrupted.  "  I  don't 
know  what  it  is."  She  hid  her  face  in  her  bended  arm 
and  turned  away.  He  kissed  the  nape  of  her  neck.  She 
sank  back  against  him.  "  I  don't  know  what  makes  me 
feel  so  queer.  I  guess  it  must  be — "  She  hesitated. 

"  Love,"  he  murmured.     "  Love !  " 

"  Love,"  she  repeated  dreamily.  And  a  light,  as 
from  a  new  sun  upon  a  new  world,  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  love  you,  I  love  you !  "  he  cried  passionately. 

She  touched  his  cheeks  tenderly  with  her  slim  fingers. 
"  I  love  you,"  she  said. 

When  she  drew  away  again,  it  was  to  start  resolutely 
along  the  road  homeward.  She  turned  to  say,  "  I'm 
going  to  make  pa  send  me  to  school  some  more." 

"  Let  me  walk  home  with  you,  Sophy." 

66  No,  you  mustn't.  If  pa  knew  what  I'd  been  up 
to —  My,  how  mad  he'd  be !  "  Her  eyes  were  dancing. 
She  nodded  gayly  to  him,  and  went,  swinging  the  sun- 
bonnet  by  its  strings,  and  walking  with  a  natural,  grace 
ful  rhythm.  "  To-morrow,"  she  called  at  the  turn  of 
the  road.  "  Don't  forget !  "  At  that  they  both  laughed, 
so  light-hearted  were  they.  And  soon  he  heard  her 
voice  singing. 

As  he  went  up  the  hill  toward  his  uncle's  house,  the 
whole  world  seemed  changed — transfigured.  And  sud 
denly  he  felt  enormously  hungry.  "  I  do  hope  supper's 
ready,"  he  said  to  himself. 

He  was  surprised  to  find  everything  at  his  uncle's 
just  as  it  used  to  be,  just  as  it  was  when  he,  a  boy,  wan 
dered  down  to  the  pear  trees,  not  to  return  until  he  had 
become  a  man.  At  all  ages  we — necessarily — reckon  the 
importance  of  the  things  of  the  universe  as  they  are  re 
lated  to  us.  Perspective  must  be  personal.  Years  had 
passed  over  him — what  is  time  but  measure  of  event? — 

14 


PROLOGUE 


years  had  passed  over  him  since  he  last  saw  that  big  white 
house  with  its  green  shutters,  with  its  pillared  porch  in 
front,  and  the  long  grape  arbor  at  the  back  where  they 
ate  in  summer,  the  chickens  passing  in  and  out,  chirping 
and  clucking.  The  lightning  rod  still  glittered  in  new 
ness  above  the  roof,  and  at  the  back  the  preparations 
for  the  evening  meal  for  the  family  and  the  "  hands," 
which  had  been  under  way  when  he  left,  were  only  just 
completed. 

He  was  hopeful,  yet  afraid,  too,  that  they  would  ob 
serve  the  change  in  him.  There  was  no  reason  for  se 
crecy.  To  love  the  daughter  of  prosperous  Joel  Baker, 
owner  of  many  hundred  acres,  and  so  shrewd  a  manager 
and  so  good  a  worker  of  his  wife  and  sons  and  daughters 
and  outside  help,  both  male  and  female,  that  he  was 
renter  of  many  hundreds  more — to  love  Sophy  Baker 
would  not  rouse  opposition  at  his  uncle's  or  at  home  in 
Indianapolis.  He  was  proud  of  his  new  and  mighty  sen 
sations,  of  his  discovery  that  there  was  in  matter  a  soul, 
tangible,  alive,  no  vague  unreality  like  the  soul  that  was 
part  of  religion.  But  somehow  he  could  not  talk  of  these 
things,  though  he  was  bursting  with  them ;  they  seemed 
the  secrets  of  a  sacred  order  of  which  he  had  taken  the 
vows. 

At  sight  of  his  cousin  Ellen,  carrying  a  huge  glass 
pitcher  of  milk  to  the  table  to  set  it  between  a  vast  plat 
ter  of  corn  bread  and  a  vaster  platter  heaped  high  with 
fried  chicken — at  sight  of  her,  similar  in  figure  and  in 
coloring  to  the  wronderf ul  being  who  had  evoked  the  reso 
lute,  passionate  spirit  of  manhood  within  him,  he  felt 
the  blood  rush  to  his  heart,  then  in  mad  torrent  to  his 
brain.  On  his  face  was  again  the  sweet  sting  of  her  soft 
hesitating  kisses.  He  looked  round,  fearful  lest  he  had 
been  observed.  But  the  men — his  uncle  with  a  great 

15 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

beard  like  a  prophet's,  his  big,  hulking,  husky  cousins, 
and  the  eighteen  slouching,  awkward  harvest  hands — 
had  eyes  for  the  table  only.  The  women — his  aunt, 
with  the  sweet,  tired  face  and  the  air  of  refinement  that 
made  his  uncle  still  in  awe  of  her  after  thirty  years  of 
the  most  practical  married  life,  the  four  handsome, 
hearty  girls  who  were  his  cousins,  and  the  three  women 
from  neighboring  farms  called  in  to  help — the  women 
were  too  intent  upon  the  wants  of  those  twenty-one  vast 
appetities  to  note  the  faint  outward  signs  of  enormous 
inward  perturbation  in  "  that  youngest  boy  of  Joe  Mur- 
dock's — Joe  that  went  away  to  Indianapolis  and  got 
elected  judge." 

Next  to  work,  there  is  no  inspirer  of  appetite  like  the 
example  of  a  horde  of  hungry  workers.  The  bees  were 
still  busy  among  the  grapes  overhead ;  a  wasp  or  a  mud- 
dauber  flew  in  and  darted  out,  now  and  then ;  the  even 
ing  song  of  the  birds  filtered  down  through  the  broad 
leaves  of  the  vines  like  the  voice  of  the  wine  locked 
away  in  the  round,  ripe,  rich  blue  grapes.  But  none 
of  those  ravenously  hungry  eaters  spoke;  wrestling 
with  the  great  emotions,  the  great  appetites,  man  is 
always  silent. 

When  all  had  eaten  until  they  could  eat  no  more,  his 
uncle  coughed  loudly  and  stood.  They  knew  the  mean 
ing  of  that  signal  and  pushed  back  their  chairs  and 
stood  also.  Then  the  old  farmer  said  grace,  ending  with 
a  tremendous  amen  that  made  the  birds  whose  nests  were 
in  the  eaves  just  above  the  arbor  dart  from  home  and 
flap  away  with  cries  of  alarm.  In  those  regions  and  in 
those  days,  endless  were  the  developments  of  individual 
ity  about  its  one  opportunity — religion.  Everyone  else 
said  grace  before  meals ;  his  uncle  insisted  that  after  the 
meal  was  the  proper,  the  only  time,  that  it  was  insincere, 

16 


PROLOGUE 

not  to  say  impious,  to  give  thanks  in  advance  of  the 
benefit.  While  grace  was  saying,  the  young  man's 
eyes  had  been  roving.  Through  a  break  in  the  leafy  wall 
he  saw  a  house  far  away  across  the  valleys.  It  was  white 
like  his  uncle's,  and  almost  as  large.  The  setting  sun 
was  reflecting  from  its  windows  in  a  glory  of  rosy  golden 
fire. 

"  Whose  house  is  that — on  the  crest  of  the  second 
hill  to  the  east?"  he  asked  his  cousin  Amanda,  in  the 
pause  after  his  uncle's  thunderous  amen. 

*  Joel  Baker's.  He's  an  old  crank.  But  you  ought 
to  see  his  daughter  Sophy.  My,  she's  a  beauty.  She 
knows  it,  and  she's  got  a  selfish  disposition  and  an  empty 
head,  and  is  as  lazy  as  the  law  allows.  But  the  men 
don't  mind  that." 

"  To  hear  you,  I'd  think  she'd  stole  your  beau,"  said 
young  Murdock  shrewdly. 

Amanda  laughed  disagreeably.  "  How'd  you  guess, 
Charles  ?  "  Then,  with  a  shrug  of  her  fine  shoulders, 
"  I  didn't  really  care  for  him  or  you  can  bet  she'd  not 
have  got  him  away.  And  what  I  said  was  so,  even  if  it 
was  spiteful.  It  takes  a  mighty  foolish  woman  to  lie 
about  another  woman  to  a  man.  What's  the  use  lying, 
when  there's  always  so  much  to  tell  that's  true?  Wait 
till  you  see  her.  She's  not  a  bit  your  style.  She  don't 
know  a  thing,  except  how  to  stir  up  the  boys." 

A  sharp,  shooting  pang  of  jealousy.  He  watched 
those  flaming  windows  till  they  grew  dark,  watched  the 
house  till  it  faded  into  the  black  of  the  night.  And  all 
the  time  he  was  seeing  her  as  plainly  as  if  she  were  be 
fore  his  eyes,  was  feeling  her  as  thrillingly  as  if  her 
bosom  were  fluttering  against  his  chest  like  the  soft 
smooth  wings  of  a  white  bird,  soft  yet  firm  white  wings, 
crimson  at  their  arches. 

17 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

The  night  was  hot  and  close ;  yet  the  sky  was  clear, 
and  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  so  many  stars.  In 
stead  of  going  to  bed,  he  crept  down  the  stairs  and 
out  by  the  unlocked  back  door.  On  cots  under  the  wood 
shed  near  the  house  the  harvest  hands  were  sleeping 
noisily.  He  went  through  the  garden  gate  and  across 
the  potato  patch,  and  the  melon  patch,  and  through  the 
orchard — keeping  due  east,  where  he  knew  her  house 
was.  He  skirted  the  dark  wood  of  the  first  hollow,  fol 
lowed  the  road  to  the  brickkilns  until  he  came  to  the 
bridge  over  the  creek  above  the  fall. 

"  Yes,  that  was  what  I  came  for,"  he  said  to  himself, 
turning  aside  to  go  along  the  bank  of  the  creek.  The 
trees  were  thick  overhead  now,  and  the  air  was  moist 
and  cool.  There  was  something  beautiful  and  friendly 
in  the  shapes  that  seemed  to  peer  from  the  deep  dusk  on 
either  side — the  dusk  not  so  deep  that  he  could  not 
clearly  make  out  the  creek  foaming  along  as  if  practic 
ing  for  the  joyous  abandon  of  its  approaching  tumble 
of  half  a  hundred  feet.  He  descended,  moss  under  his 
feet,  thickets  of  fern  about  him.  Soon  he  was  at  the 
pool  beneath  the  falls,  the  pool  into  which  the  creek 
leaped  with  a  musical  shout  that  drowned  every  other 
sound.  He  was  seeking  the  ledge  where  one  could  stand 
and  be  showered  and  drenched  by  full  half  the  mass  of 
falling  water.  He  had  just  reached  the  outer  edge  of 
the  long  flat  stone,  was  still  several  yards  away  from 
even  the  spray  of  the  waterfall,  when  he  drew  back  with 
a  sharp  exclamation.  Some  one  was  there  before  him. 

It  was  so  dark  that  at  first  he  could  see  only  a  sway 
ing  elusive  outline.  As  his  eyes  strained  and  stretched 
to  take  in  every  particle  of  the  light,  he  saw,  as  in  a 
clouded  mirror,  the  whole  figure.  "  Sophy ! "  he  ex 
claimed  under  his  breath. 

18 


PROLOGUE 

His  eyes  devoured  that  misty  vision  of  a  water  sprite, 
free  and  fair  and  unearthly,  the  spirit  of  the  cascade. 
Then  he  came  to  himself ;  and,  white  and  shaking,  as  if  he 
had  seen  a  ghost,  he  fled  up  the  road  he  had  descended. 
When  he  reached  the  bridge  again,  he  sat  on  its  rail  and 
waited,  the  noise  of  his  rushing  blood  mingled  with  the 
noise  of  the  rushing  water.  After  a  long  time,  when 
the  moon  was  sailing  high  above  the  treetops,  was  shin 
ing  full  upon  him,  he  saw  a  movement  at  the  entrance 
to  the  path.  He  stood,  turned  so  that  his  face  was  clear 
in  the  moonlight.  Her  figure  advanced  out  of  the  dark 
ness.  He  went  forward. 

"Is  it  you,  Sophy?" 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  her  hand  on  her  heart.  "  I 
thought  I  was  dreaming — or  that — that  you  had  died 
and  had  come  to  say  good-by."  She  clung  to  him,  sob 
bing. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  down  to  the  fall,"  she  explained.  "  It  was  so 
hot,  and  I  couldn't  sleep.  I  don't  know  what's  the  mat 
ter  with  me.  I  feel  so  queer.  I'm  happy  and  sad,  both 
at  once.  I  sing  a  while,  then  I  burst  out  crying — and 
I'm  sad  as  I  sing  and  happy  as  I  cry." 

She  was  gazing  up  at  him,  a  wistful  look  in  her  azure 
eyes  that  shone  in  such  splendor  in  the  moonlight.  He 
pushed  off  the  cap  that  bound  her  hair.  A  shower  of 
silvery  gold  suddenly  enveloped  her  shoulders.  "  Oh, 
Sophy !  Sophy !  I  love  you !  "  he  cried,  and  he  buried  his 
face  in  her  hair,  and  through  its  soft  veil  kissed  her  cool, 
magnetic  skin. 

"  I  love  you,"  she  echoed  softly.  And  she  kissed  him 
passionately. 

"  Will  you  marry  me,  Sophy  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  she  answered.  "  What  else  can 
19 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   'NEW 

we  do  but  get  married?  I  couldn't  think  of  anything 
but  being  your  wife." 

The  word  "  wife  "  thrilled  him  so  that  he  trembled 
from  head  to  foot.  Oh,  youth  of  fire  and  passion,  youth 
that  has  the  strength  and  the  courage  and  the  innocence 
to  feel !  "  My  wife,"  he  said,  and  repeated,  "  My  wife." 
That  word  meant  all  this  beauty  his,  forever  his,  forever 
to  shine  clear  and  bright  as  a  sunset  planet  upon  his  life, 
forever  to  burn  in  his  veins,  inspiring  him  to  do  and 
dare  everything,  anything,  to  fulfill  all  the  audacities  of 
his  daydreams. 

"  I  felt  it'd  be  that  way  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  you,'* 
she  went  on.  "  My  sister  saw  you  the  day  you  came, 
and  she  said  you  were  different  from  the  boys  round 
here.  And  I  thought  you  were  the  one  I  was  waiting  for. 
Often,  the  last  year  or  two,  I've  waked  up  with  a  start 
because  in  a  dream  somebody  had  called  '  Sophy,  I  love 
you ! '  and  kissed  me.  But  I  never  could  make  out  what 
he  looked  like.  It  was  you — I  know  it  was.  I  went  to 
sleep  as  soon  as  ever  I  got  into  bed  to-night.  And  it 
was  you,  plain  as  now,  that  woke  me  up." 

"With  a  kiss?" 

"  With  a  kiss." 

"  Like  this?  "     And  their  lips  met. 

They  drew  apart,  hot  yet  shivering.  "  Sophy ! 
Sophy !  "  he  murmured. 

"  I  was  afraid,  when  I  saw  you  at  first  to-day,"  she 
went  on.  "  You  looked  so — so  smart — as  if  you  were 
full  of  the  big  books  they  say  you  read  all  the  time. 
Then — there's  a  spark  comes  in  your  eyes  when  you  look 
at  me —  Yes,  I  see  it  plain.  It's  like  a  little — a  little 
star — only  it  seems  to  burn  out  at  me — burn  into  me. 
I  saw  it  the  first  time  you  looked  at  me  up  there  in  the 
meadow,  and  I  didn't  feel  a  bit  afraid.  I  don't  need  to 

20 


PROLOGUE 


know  anything.  You  know  enough  for  us  both,  don't 
you?" 

"  You  know  how  to  make  me —  I  burn  whenever  I 
look  at  you,  Sophy.  And  I  feel  so  bold,  and  so  afraid, 
too." 

"  When  I  stood  out  under  the  water  to-night — down 
there — and  it  came  tumbling  down  on  me  and  seemed 
to  take  hold  of  me  everywhere —  It  was  like  you.  It 
was  fierce,  but  soft,  too.  And  I  called  out  your  name." 

"  Just  as  the  moon  rose?  " 

She  glanced  quickly  at  him,  hid  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

He  drew  her  closer  to  him.  "  Aren't  you  mine,  So 
phy — all  mine  ?  " 

In  the  dusk  before  dawn  he  went  with  her  to  the 
gate  at  the  end  of  the  grove  of  cedars  before  her  father's 
house.  In  the  shadow  of  the  great  lilac  bushes  there, 
they  lingered  until  the  loud,  hoarse  salute  of  the  roos 
ters  to  the  new  day  startled  them  apart,  sent  her  hurry 
ing  into  the  house,  sent  him  off  toward  home,  marching 
proudly  erect.  To  those  born  with  that  in  them  which 
had  looked  from  his  eyes  since  babyhood,  life  is  no  net 
work  of  casual  paths ;  it  is  a  definite  road  along  which 
they  press  steadily  from  purpose  to  purpose.  He  had 
entered  its  first  stretch ;  he  had  his  first  purpose ;  he  had 
begun  to  live. 


THE    AWAKENING 

EVERY  American  city  and  large  town  now  has  its 
newly  built  district,  where  live  the  families  thrust  up 
into  affluence  because  their  bread  winners  had  the  sagac 
ity  or  the  slyness  to  be  among  the  lions  in  the  divid 
ing  of  the  last  quarter  century's  unwieldy  riches  through 
the  sudden  development  of  the  sciences  and  the  swift  mul 
tiplying  of  the  population.  In  middle  western  Saint 
Christopher — "  Saint  X,"  as  it  is  always  called  to  save 
breath  and  time — this  newly  built  district  for  the  newly 
rich  is  on  the  bluffs  that  in  winter  frown  and  in  summer 
smile  down  upon  the  city.  Parts  of  it — the  Whitney 
castle  at  Point  Helen,  for  example,  or  the  vast  rambling 
Eyrie  of  John  Dumont — are  grandiose,  indeed.  Most 
of  it  is  the  more  or  less  luxurious  country  places  of 
families  of  smaller  incomes  or  of  less  advanced  "  culture." 

It  is  one  of  these — a  square,  brick  house  trimmed 
with  Indiana  limestone — that  we  enter  just  as  the  wait 
ress  parlor  maid,  capless  and  with  none  too  clean  apron 
over  none  too  fresh  black  dress,  sends  the  tintinnabula 
tions  of  the  dinner  bell  resounding  out  upon  the  verandas 
and  up  the  well  through  which  the  front  stairway 
ascends.  As  the  sound  dies  away  a  boy,  in  fashionable 
summer  dinner  suit  of  gray  well  off  the  black,  rises  from 
a  hammock  on  the  front  veranda.  He  leans  upon  the 
railing,  looks  down  the  grassy  slope  toward  the  there 

22 


THE   AWAKENING 


not-distant  edge  of  the  bluffs — toward  a  summer  house 
where  a  girl  a  year  or  so  older  than  he  sits  gazing  out 
over  the  river,  absorbed  in  evening  dreams. 

"  Norma ! .  . .  Norma ! .  .  .  Nor-ma !  .  .  .  Norma  Mur- 
dock!" 

The  girl  sighs,  rises,  turns.  None  could  deny  her 
beauty;  the  critical  would  add  the  unpleasant  but  un 
deniable  truth  that  it  was  of  the  sort  likely  soon  to  be 
eclipsed  behind  the  homeliness  of  fat  unless  guarded  as 
carefully  and  intelligently  as  one  must  guard  any  other 
of  the  winged  treasures  of  life.  But,  standing  there  in 
the  seductive  glory  of  her  just  seventeen  years,  she  was 
exquisite.  "  What  is  it,  Charley  ?  "  she  called. 

"  Dinner !  Stop  dreaming  about  Joe  Degarmo,  and 
come  in  and  feed ! " 

She  colored,  laughed,  gathered  in  the  trailing  skirt 
she  was  not  yet  expert  at  managing,  came  running  up  the 
path — and  her  run  was  not  the  awkward,  cowlike  gait 
of  the  old-fashioned  girl  who  never  ran  when  she  could 
walk  and  never  walked  when  she  could  ride;  it  was,  on 
the  contrary,  as  graceful  a  dash  as  her  handsome  athletic 
brother  could  make.  When  she  stood  beside  him  in  the 
broad  entrance,  he  surveyed  her  with  patronizing  ap 
proval.  "  Gad,  Norma,"  said  he,  "  it  does  you  good  to 
be  in  love.  You  certainly  are  about  the  prettiest  ever. 
You're  a  dead  ringer  for  the  picture  of  mother  when  she 
was  your  age." 

As  he  made  this  remark  the  door  to  the  left  opened 
and  there  appeared  a  youngish  man  in  an  unassuming 
business  suit.  There  was  a  sprinkle  of  gray  in  his 
rather  fair,  slightly  waving  hair,  quite  a  streak  of  it  at 
his  left  temple ;  it  strengthened  the  impression  of  youth 
because  it  framed  an  unwrinkled  face  and  clear  and 
ardent  eyes.  In  the  mouth — its  firmness,  its  lines  of  will 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

and  achievement — experience  was  more  distinctly  hinted. 
A  typical  American  face — resourceful,  courageous,  self- 
reliant  ;  the  relentless  pursuit  of  the  fixed  purpose,  miti 
gated  by  kindliness  and  the  saving  sense  of  humor. 

"  Isn't  she,  father?  "  said  the  boy,  appealing  to  him. 
The  boy  was  evidently  the  son  of  the  man — a  superficial 
copy  of  a  masterly  original. 

Murdock  came  out  of  his  abstraction,  looked  at  his 
daughter  with  a  fascinating  lighting  up  of  the  keen 
gray  eyes  that  made  him  seem  even  younger.  "  Isn't 
she— what?  " 

"  Like  that  picture  of  mother  taken  at  her  age." 
The  smile  vanished;  he  scanned  his  daughter,  face 
and   form,   narrowly,   anxiously.      "  Very,"   replied  he 
curtly  and  coldly.     Then  as  the  two  stared  at  him  and 
at  each  other  in  astonishment,  he  added  in  his  ordinary 
calm,  rather  indolent  voice,  "  Where's  your  mother?  " 
"  Here  I  am,"  came  from  the  head  of  the  stairs  in  a 
slow,  plaintive  tone  with  a  note  of  vague  discontent  in1 
it,  but  withal  musical,  sweet,  youthful. 

There  descended  toward  them  a  woman  whose  appear 
ance  was  a  somehow  irritating  disappointment  of  the 
expectations  raised  by  the  voice.  She  was  young,  was 
in  a  way  handsome  even.  But  there  was  an  unyouthful 
breadth  to  her  cheeks,  to  her  bosom,  to  her  arms  and  hips, 
a  distinctly  elderly  caution  and  ponderousness  of  step. 
It  was  instantly  apparent  that  this  was  because  feet  and 
ankles  were  far  too  small  for  body.  In  fact,  her  feet 
and  her  hands,  her  wrists  and  ankles,  slender,  delicate, 
in  themselves  most  attractive,  had  a  suggestion  of  ab 
normality,  so  out  of  proportion  to  her  body  were  they. 
It  was  unpleasant,  almost  painful,  to  recognize  this 
portly  and  sedate  person,  in  rustling,  much-trimmed 
black  silk,  as  the  lithe  embodiment  of  youth  and  love  who 

24 


THE   AWAKENING 


flitted  through  the  odorous  shadows  of  Joel  Baker's 
lilacs.  The  lines  of  grace  and  symmetry  were  still  there, 
though  woefully  obscured;  and  in  a  setting  of  features 
less  heavy  the  eyes,  young  and  soft  and  azure,  would  still 
have  been  glorious.  It  being  particularly  difficult  for 
a  "  sizable  "  woman  to  array  herself  becomingly,  Mrs. 
Murdock,  slowly  descending,  looked  more  bulky  than  she 
really  was,  and  uncomfortable  and  dressed  up,  to  boot. 
The  beaded  trimming  about  her  shoulders  seemed  to 
stoop  them;  the  heavy,  rich  black  silk  was  of  the  kind 
that  makes  the  dresses  that  will  stand  alone,  the  kind  that 
used  to  be  regarded  as  the  last  word  upon  elegance,  the 
necessary  "  best  dress  "  of  the  married  woman  of  the 
prosperous  class.  Her  abundant  hair  was  primly  sleeked 
and  gathered  in  a  heavy  shiny  roll  at  the  back  of  her 
head.  In  the  contrast  between  her  appearance — her 
dress,  air,  look  out  of  the  eyes — and  that  of  the  other 
three  members  of  the  family,  there  was  at  once  a  con 
tinuation  and  an  explanation  of  the  queer  commingling 
of  old-fashioned  farmhouse  crudity  and  new-fashioned 
costly  luxury  that  met  the  eye  on  every  side  within  the 
house. 

The  impatient  children  rushed  on  into  the  dining 
room  with  its  country  painter's  frescoings  and  its  costly 
rosewood  furniture.  Murdock  waited  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairway.  If  there  had  chanced  to  be  with  him  some  man 
friend  who  had  not  seen  Sophy  since  her  wedding  day 
and  had  never  happened  to  note  how  often  the  charms  of 
a  bride  hardly  outwear  her  trousseau,  he  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  believe  Murdock's  expression  of  sim 
ple  waiting  not  a  veil  for  chagrin,  perhaps  anger.  How 
ever  gradual  these  changes  might  have  been,  how  could 
even  a  husband's  partial  eyes  readjust  to  them  without 
acute  distress,  recurring  each  time  he  saw  again?  No 
3  25 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

more  years  had  elapsed  for  the  one  than  for  the  other. 
If  her  life  had  been  by  chance  hard,  had  not  his  life 
been  one  of  incessant  toil?  Why  then  the  changes  in 
him  all  for  the  better,  the  changes  in  her  all  the  other 
way? 

When  her  slow  pace  had  brought  her  almost  down, 
he  said:  "  How  are  you  this  evening,  Sophy?  Better?  " 

"  The  headache  a  little  better,"  replied  she.  "  But 
the  neuralgia's  worse.  Nobody  ever  will  know  what  I'm 
suffering.  But  then  I'm  used  to  it.  Women  were  made 
to  suffer,  I  suppose." 

"  You  certainly  have  had  a  hard  time  ever  since  the 
beginning  of  last  winter."  His  manner  perhaps  sug 
gested  that  his  was  the  somewhat  mechanical  sympathy 
of  those  whose  sympathy  has  been  heavily  overdrafted. 

"  Last  winter !  "  cried  she  angrily.  "  You  know 
very  well  I've  never  had  a  single  really  comfortable  day 
since  Charley  was  born — I  might  say  since  Norma.  But 
then  what  can  a  woman  expect?  How  can  a  man  appre 
ciate  what  she  goes  through  in  carrying  children  and 
bringing  them  into  the  world?  " 

Murdock  seemed  as  abashed  by  this  the  thousandth 
reminder,  at  least,  of  the  horrors  of  maternity  as  he  had 
been  the  first  time  it  had  put  him  down ;  for,  the  woman 
who  uses  this  weapon  always  contrives  to  poison  its  barbs 
with  the  intimation  that  the  man  was  wholly,  deliberately 
and  wickedly  to  blame  for  those  horrors,  and  could  hardly 
atone  by  lifelong  contrition  on  his  knees. 

Sophy  was  of  those  classified  by  the  casual  as  "  good- 
natured  "  because  of  the  widespread  delusion  about  the 
relationship  between  girth  and  good  nature.  Indeed, 
until  the  previous  winter  she  had  not  been  bad-tempered. 
But  then  the  long  gathering  punishment  for  her  indolent 
and  self-indulgent  mode  of  life  had  tardily  begun ;  and 

26 


THE   AWAKENING 


now  the  drooping  corners  of  her  mouth  and  the  line  of 
temper  above  her  straight  delicate  nose  were  surer  indi 
cations  of  her  character  than  her  generous  expanses — 
or  even  than  the  sweet,  low  voice  with  its  note  of  plain 
tive  meekness. 

A  woman  of  the  familiar  type  familiarly  known  as 
"  settled."  Plainly,  she  regarded  her  life  as  past  its 
climax ;  and  the  stage  of  physical  and  mental  deteriora 
tion,  indicated  in  slovenly  corpulence,  in  carelessness  of 
toilet,  in  stale,  monotonous  expression  of  eyes,  proclaimed 
that  she  had  been  of  this  mind  for  some  time,  several 
years  at  least.  Indeed,  she  bore  suspicious  resemblance 
to  those  not  rare  women  to  whom  the  matrimonial  altar 
is  the  topmost  tip  of  feminine  ambition,  is  the  high-water 
mark  up  to  which  the  tide  of  feminine  life  flows  ever 
fuller  and  beyond  which  it  abruptly  ebbs.  To  glance 
from  her  to  her  husband  was  to  have  the  impulse  to  com 
miserate  them  both — and  to  wonder.  For,  it  was  as  ob 
vious  as  her  having  ceased  to  live  and  having  begun  a 
long  placid  death  of  the  dry  rot  that  the  man  to  whom 
she  was  married  stood  just  at  the  beginning  of  the  age 
of  achievement. 

The  conquests  of  active  life,  peace  no  less  than  war, 
rest  chiefly  upon  youth's  cardinal  quality,  audacity,  and 
little  upon  intellect.  The  intellectual  achievements,  the 
consolidating  of  what  youth's  daring  has  won  into  solid 
structure  of  power,  do  not  begin  until  forty  or  there 
abouts  ;  for  then  the  mind  enters  its  period  of  greatest 
dexterity  and  strength,  the  judgment  is  formed,  the  am 
bitions  and  appetites  are  at  their  most  clamorous.  With 
a  yokemate  who  was  not  a  helpmate,  with  a  partner 
who  was  not  a  companion,  with  a  wife  who  could  neither 
appeal  to  nor  appease  the  gorgeously  imaginative  pas 
sions  that  flamed  for  Sophy,  slim  sprite  of  the  fields 

27 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

and   the  waters,    Charles   Murdock   was   entering  life's 
golden  age. 

As  soon  as  this  family  of  four  was  at  table,  the  boy 
began  upon  his  sister  again :  "  And  Joe  old  enough  to 
be  your  father !  " 

"  I  want  a  husband,"  retorted  the  girl,  "  not  a  child 
to  raise.  I  can't  bear  little  boys — except  you,  Charley. 
They're  so  silly  and  ignorant." 

"  What  an  unnatural  child  you  are,  Norma !  "  rebuked 
her  mother.  "  Wherever  did  you  get  such  ideas  ?  And 
you  with  your  first  long  skirt — I  let  you  have  that  only 
because  it  didn't  seem  proper  for  a  girl  in  short  dresses 
to  be  engaged.  But  young  people  ought  to  be  young. 
When  your  father  and  I  were  young  we  didn't  act  like 
grown-up  people." 

"  Why,  father's  still  young,"  cried  Charles  Junior, 
with  the  brutality  of  the  tactless  boy. 

A  flush  overspread  the  faces  of  both  the  husband  and 
the  wife.  The  husband  hung  his  head  in  apologetic 
silence ;  the  wife  burst  out :  "  You  know  your  father's 
several  years  older  than  I  am."  As  she  spoke  she 
glanced  at  him  and  felt  moved  to  add  still  more  crossly : 
"  Oh,  I  admit  I  don't  look  young  any  more.  That's  the 
curse  of  being  a  woman.  The  woman  has  all  the  heavy 
burden  of  care  and  suffering  and  anxiety,  and  it  wears 
her  out."  Her  eyes  flared  somberly  at  her  husband ;  his 
expression  of  discomfort  deepened. 

"  Pity  about  you,  mother,"  teased  her  son. 

"  Charles ! "  exclaimed  Sophy  in  sharp  appeal  to 
her  husband.  "  Do  you  sit  silent  and  let  your  son  talk 
this  way  to  his  mother?  " 

Murdock  came  out  of  pretended  abstraction.  "  What 
was  it,  Sophy?"  asked  he.  "I  didn't  hear.  I  was 
thinking  about — business  matters." 

28 


THE   AWAKENING 


"  Of  course ! "  said  Mrs.  Murdock,  in  resigned  dis 
gust.  "  It  seems  to  me  a  man  might  leave  his  business 
when  he  comes  home  to  his  family.  It  sets  the  chil 
dren  such  a  bad  example.  No  wonder  they  fail  in  proper 
respect  to  me." 

"  I'm  very  sorry."  Murdock's  tone  was  contrite, 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  apparent  seriousness  of  the 
incident;  Sophy  and  the  children  were  astonished  and 
showed  it. 

"  We  were  talking  about  Joe  Degarmo,"  explained 
Charley  to  Charles.  "  I  was  telling  Norma  she  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  herself  to  get  engaged  to  a  man  who 
looks  older  than  you  do." 

"  There  you  go  again !  "  cried  his  mother.  "  Will 
you  stop  him,  or  won't  you,  father?  " 

At  the  word  "  father  "  Norma  and  the  boy  burst 
out  laughing.  "  It  does  sound  queer — especially  just 
now — for  you  to  call  the  governor  by  such  a  venerable 
name,"  said  the  boy.  "  Why,  Norma'll  have  to  call  her 
Joe  grand-daddy." 

Sophy  tossed  her  head  and  pursed  her  lips.  "  I've 
been  opposed  to  this  engagement  from  the  first,"  declared 
she.  "  It's  indecent — yes,  indecent.  A  husband  and 
a  wife  should  be  near  an  age,  and  should  get  old 
together." 

"  Stay  young  together,"  suggested  Norma  dreamily. 

"  No !  "  retorted  her  mother.  "  It  isn't  proper  for 
the  heads  of  a  family  to  act  and  look  like  children." 

Norma's  lips  closed  firmly  to  press  back  the  eager 
retort.  Sophy  went  on :  "I  don't  know  what  the 
world's  coming  to.  Everything  your  father  and  I  were 
brought  up  to  respect  is  being  laughed  at  and  despised. 
They  call  it  improvement,  but  I  say  it's  the  road  to 
ruin.  What's  this,  Mary  ? — Washington  pie?  Oh,  dear ! 

29 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Didn't  I  tell  you  to  tell  the  cook  not  to  have  these  things 
any  more?  They're  so  fattening" — crossly — "and  she 
knows  I  can't  resist." 

Mrs.  Murdock  helped  herself  liberally  to  the  Wash 
ington  pie,  her  eyes  eager,  her  mouth  petulant.  Char 
ley  winked  at  his  sister;  she  frowned  at  him.  Both 
glanced  at  their  father.  He  was  gazing  at  his  wife, 
and  he  continued  to  gaze  as  she  ate  the  Washington  pie 
in  silence  and  content.  His  expression  was  so  strange 
a  mixture  of  amusement  and  some  other  emotion,  not 
definable  but  quite  different,  that  Norma,  the  observant, 
felt  a  queer  sensation  at  the  heart.  Presently  he  lowered 
his  eyes  and  resumed  his  usual  abstraction. 

Charley  happened  to  observe  the  waitress.  As  soon 
as  she  withdrew  he  said :  "  Lizzie's  serving  without  her 
cap  again.  And  she  looks  mussy  and  frowzy." 

"  You'd  better  mind  your  own  business,  young 
man,"  retorted  his  mother.  "  How  can  I  see  to  every 
little  thing  when  I'm  nearly  crazy  with  pain  ?  " 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  you,  mother,"  protested  Char 
ley.  "  I  was  blaming  the  housekeeper." 

"  Mrs.  Theron  has  been  busy  waiting  on  me." 

"  She's  n.  g.,"  insisted  the  boy.  "  I've  been  home 
only  three  days,  but  I've  found  that  out.  The  house 
is  almost  as  bad  as  before  you  hired  her." 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  impudence ! "  cried  Sophy. 
"  Next  thing  you'll  be  criticising  the  food,  and " 

"  It  is  pretty  bum,"  said  he.     "  Ain't  it,  Norma?  " 

"  Do  shut  up !  "  exclaimed  Norma. 

"  Everybody,  except  my  own  family,"  pursued 
Sophy,  "  admits  I'm  about  the  best  housekeeper  in 
Saint  X.  Mrs.  Theron  does  what  I  tell  her  to  do.  As 
she  often  says,  she  never  began  to  learn  how  to  keep 
house  till  she  came  here  and  saw  how  I  did  it." 

30 


THE   AWAKENING 


"  She's  a  worthless  old  toady." 

"  If  you  can't  behave  yourself,"  interrupted  Mur- 
dock  sternly,  "  you'll  have  to  leave  the  dining  room. 
We've  had  nothing  but  bickerings  at  this  table  since 
you  came  home." 

"  Please  don't  correct  the  boy  so  harshly,"  said 
Sophy  plaintively.  "  Never  rebuke  temper  in  tem 
per,  mother  used  to  say." 

A  long  silence;  then  Charley  asked  Norma, 
"  When  does  Joe  get  back?  " 

"  To-morrow,  I  think,"  replied  she. 

"  Do  have  some  of  the  pie,  Norma,"  urged  he. 
"  Don't  be  afraid  of  your  precious  complexion." 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  Well,  I  will— or  mother'll  take  it  all."  And  he 
laughed  alone  and  boisterously  at  his  joke.  Sophy 
bridled,  but  did  not  again  call  upon  her  husband. 

After  dinner  he  immediately  withdrew  to  the  li 
brary.  In  a  few  minutes  Norma  came  seeking  him, 
found  him  at  the  farthest  of  the  three  long  French 
windows  giving  on  the  veranda  and  commanding  a 
wide  sweep  of  hillls  and  valleys  and  sinuous  river.  At 
the  sound  of  her  rustling,  he  turned,  a  frown  added 
to  his  sternness  or  rather  somberness  from  his  inter 
rupted  thoughts.  Her  timidity — he  was  in  the  mood 
to  note  everything — sent  a  sharp  pang  through  him. 
"Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that?"  he  said,  direct 
and  unconsciously  peremptory. 

She  shrank — not  so  much  through  actual  fear,  for  she 
was  not  afraid  of  him,  as  through  that  feeling  of  diffi 
dence  which  men  long  accustomed  to  successful  sway  over 
their  fellows  cannot  but  inspire,  even  in  each  other. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I — I — " 
He  could  not  explain;  so  he  added:  "Please  tell  me 

31 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

why  you  looked  at  me  like — "     He  was  smiling  now 
— that  winning,  youthful  smile  of  his. 

"  Like  what  ? "  asked  Norma,  confused  by  this 
new  manner. 

"  As  if  you  were  afraid  I'd  eat  you  alive."  And 
he  laughed  boyishly. 

"  You — you  always  make  everybody  feel  afraid — 
like  a — a — "  She  glanced  up  at  him,  her  eyes  wa 
vering  between  his  haughty  but  graceful  rather  than 
harsh  Roman  nose  and  his  thick,  clean  and  vital-looking 
fair  hair,  one  lock  of  which  hung  stubbornly  down 
upon  his  brow.  She  burst  into  smiles — "  a  lion  that's 
condescending  to  be  sociable,  but  may  change  his  mind 
at  any  moment." 

He  reflected  her  amusement,  not  wholly  losing  his 
first  expression  of  wistfulness.  "  But  I  never  did 
change  my  mind,  did  I  ?  " 

"  No — and  I  know  you  won't.  But —  Somehow — • 
Well,  you  make  people  look  to  their  ps  and  qs.  Oh, 
I  like  it,"  she  hastened  to  explain.  "  As  Joe  says,  it's 
your  mark  of  superiority — the  sign  you  belong  to  the 
aristocracy  of  men.  And  they  all  say  you  were  that 
way,  even  as  a  boy." 

A  sad  satirical  smile  played  over  his  features.  He 
was  remembering  that,  even  as  a  boy,  he  had  never  had 
real  friends,  equal  friends,  only  followers.  He  could 
not  see  that  he  had  ever  done  anything,  as  boy  or 
man,  to  make  his  fellows  afraid,  to  put  himself  aloof 
— and,  indeed,  he  had  not.  His  thoughts  came  back 
to  his  daughter.  "  Well — what  do  you  want  ?  "  in 
quired  he,  good-humoredly. 

She  stood  beside  him  in  the  window  and  looked  up 
at  him  remorsefully.  "  I  never  do  come  except  when 
I  want  something,  do  I?  " 

32 


THE   AWAKENING 


"  Naturally  not,"  replied  he.  And  he  excused  her 
to  herself,  and  to  himself,  with  "  A  busy  man  soon 
gets  everyone  into  the  habit  of  letting  him  alone  when 
they've  no  business  with  him." 

He  saw  that  she  was  turning  on  her  finger  a  ring 
set  with  two  huge  stones,  a  diamond  and  a  pearl.  "  Is 
there  nothing  in  the  world  but  business  ?  "  she  asked 
softly,  her  eyes  down — and  upon  her  ring. 

His  expression  of  sadness  deepened.  He  stood  in 
one  of  his  frequent  attitudes — hands  crossed  behind  his 
back,  head  a  little  to  one  side  and  forward,  eyes  pierc 
ing  into  the  horizon,  lips  slightly  compressed,  the  pow 
erful  muscles  of  his  jaw  contracting  nervously.  After 
a  heavy  silence,  he  made  an  impatient  gesture,  like  a 
man  exorcising  a  phantom  or  phantoms  of  folly. 
"  What  did  you  want  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Was  it  about 
the  Dumont  place?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  confessed,  with  evident  nervousness. 

"  You  wish  me  to  buy  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  What  does  your  mother  say?  " 

That  released  Norma's  tongue.  "She  says  she's  too 
far  along  to  undertake  the  care  of  such  a  great  place. 
That's  perfectly  ridiculous.  Why,  she's  younger  than 
Joe — and  the  same  age  as  Mrs.  Berkeley,  who's  al 
ways  being  taken  for  twenty-five.  Yet  she  says  she 
belongs  to  a  different  generation  from  what  we  do. 
She  says  in  her  day  it  wasn't  respectable  not  to  settle 
down.  She  seems  to  think  it's  a  crime  for  a  woman  to 
have  her  looks  or  her  figure  five  years  after  she's  mar 
ried." 

A  queer  look  flitted  across  Murdock's  face,  and  fled. 

Norma,  feeling  she  had  said  too  much,  ended  with, 
"  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  encourage  her  to  give  in 

33 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

\, 

to  age  before  it  has  hardly  so  much  as  glanced  in  her 
direction." 

Murdock  abruptly  changed  the  subject.  "When 
do  you  and  Joe  marry  ?  " 

"  Not  for  ages !  Not  for  eighteen  months,  at  least. 
I  must  come  out  first.  And  I  did  so  want  to  have  the 
Dumont  house  to  come  out  in.  The  caretaker  let  me 
look  it  over  the  other  day.  There  are  six  rooms  on 
the  ground  floor  that  can  be  thrown  into  one,  practi 
cally." 

"  I'll  get  the  house,  if  Mrs.  Scarborough  will  let 
me  have  it  at  a  reasonable  figure,"  interrupted  Mur 
dock.  "  And  when  you  and  Joe  marry — if  he  doesn't 
die  of  old  age  before  the  eighteen  months — the  'ages' — 
are  up — why,  I'll  give  it  to  you  as  a  wedding  present. 
Does  that  content  you  ?  " 

She  turned  impulsively  and,  her  face  radiant,  was 
about  to  throw  herself  into  his  arms.  Never  had  he 
seen  her  so  startlingly  like  the  picture  of  her  mother 
as  bride.  Murdock  drew  back.  "  Norma !  "  he  cried 
sharply,  in  his  eyes  the  terror  of  one  who  sees  the 
ghosts  that  none  disputes — the  ghosts  from  the  graves 
of  memory. 

§he  clasped  her  hands.  "  What  is  it?  "  she  gasped. 
"What  did  I  do?" 

He  shook  his  head  impatiently.  "  Nothing — noth 
ing,"  he  said.  And  he  put  a  hand  on  each  of  her 
shoulders,  gazed  into  her  eyes  with  a  tenderness  and 
pity  that  moved  her  almost  to  tears.  "  You're  very 
fond  of  Joe  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  love  him,"  she  replied  simply. 

Murdock  kissed  her.  She  thought  there  were  tears 
in  his  eyes.  "  Tell  your  mother  you'll  take  care  of 
the  new  house  now,  and  relieve  her  of  it  altogether 

34 


THE   AWAKENING 


when  you  marry."  He  kissed  her  again,  his  expression 
sad  and  cynical  and  tender.  "  Be  happy,  child.  Youth 
is  brief  and  joy  is  fleet."  Then,  repentantly,  "  I  was 
only  joking.  Of  course  you — you  and  Joe — will  be 
happy — ages !  " 

He  turned  away,  thus  indicating  that  she  was  free 
to  go  and  that  he  expected  her  to  go.  But  she  lin 
gered.  "  What's  the  matter,  father  ?  "  she  inquired. 
"  Has  anything  gone  wrong?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  assured  her.  "  The  contrary.  To 
day  Berkeley  and  I  completed  the  sale  of  the  works, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I'm — free !  "  He 
laughed,  straightening  his  shoulders  as  if  he  liked  to 
remind  himself  that  the  harness  was  no  longer  binding 
them.  "Free!" 

"  I'm  so  glad ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  Now  you  can 
enjoy  life." 

"  So  I  can,"  said  he  with  light  irony.  "  I've  been 
in  here  all  afternoon,  thinking  about  it."  The  ab 
stracted  look  came  into  his  eyes.  "  Thinking !  I've 
done  precious  little  of  it  during  these  years  of  work — 
precious  little.  I've  really  had  no  time  until  to-day. 
This  afternoon  I've  been  feeling  as  strange  as  a  man 
who  has  been  doing  a  long  sentence  in  the  '  pen  '  and 
is  out  in  the  free  air  again."  He  glanced  at  Norma's 
sympathetic,  puzzled  face.  "  I'm  half  inclined  to  go 
back  to  the  *  pen '  and  ask  them  to  lock  me  up 
again.  There  seems  to  be  no  place  for  me — in  the  life 
outside." 

"  I  think  I  understand,"  said  Norma  reflectively. 

"  I  hope  you  don't,"  replied  he,  with  a  queer  laugh. 
"  Now  run  along." 

When  she  had  kissed  him  and  was  gone,  he  lit  a 
cigar  and  seated  himself  on  the  veranda  and  resumed 

35 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

his  thinking — his  survey  of  past,  present,  future. 
All  those  years  he  had  been  doing  with  all  his  might 
the  task  he  had  set  for  himself  as  soon  as  he  discovered 
that  to  live,  in  any  true  sense  of  the  word,  one  must 
be  financially  secure,  independent.  And  now  he  had 
completed  his  task,  had  earned  his  independence,  his 
freedom,  had  come  out  of  the  "  pen."  And,  lo !  his 
children  were  grown — one  of  them  about  to  marry — 
the  other  no  longer  at  home,  except  for  little  stops  be 
tween  visits  during  the  brief  school  vacation — and  his 
wife —  Well,  she  was  a  wife — and — what  else  was 
there  ?  Either  he  must  go  back  to  the  "  pen  "  or  make 
a  wholly  new  life  for  himself.  What  kind  of  a  new  life  ? 
The  only  kind  he  had  had  a  chance  to  learn  about 
was  that  life  of  the  "  pen."  Was  there  no  other  ?  Was 
there  in  all  the  world  nothing  to  satisfy  the  longings 
that  were  beginning  to  stir  and  to  sprout  within  him? 
Must  he  go  back  to  his  dreary,  sordid  task,  his  dollar- 
chasing?  "  There  must  be  something  else — something 
worth  while.  What  I  need  is  a  teacher,  a  helper."  .  .  . 
And  he  was  all  alone — except  Sophy.  He  did  not  even 
think  of  her,  so  preposterous  was  the  idea  of  appealing 
to  her  to  aid  him  in  such  a  matter  as  discovering  how 
to  use  his  powers  to  some  purpose. 

An  hour — two  hours — nearly  three  passed,  he  ob 
livious  of  his  surroundings.  He  was  startled  by 
Sophy's  voice,  peevishly  plaintive  now :  "  Charles, 
aren't  you  ever  coming  to  bed?" 

He  glanced  up  like  a  rudely  awakened  sleeper.  His 
wife's  form  seemed  to  fill  the  doorway,  and  the  beams 
of  the  early  setting  moon  upon  her  face  revealed  no 
trace  of  the  romantic  beauty  that  had  been  hers.  She 
looked  enormous  in  her  loose  white  nightgown  with  a 
kimono  flung  askew  over  it — enormous  and  shapeless. 

36 


THE   AWAKENING 


"  You'd  better  have  been  in  bed  than  sleeping  in 
your  chair,"  she  went  on,  frowning  and  fretful,  and 
accusing  him  of  her  own  pet  weakness.  Indulgence 
in  it  had  just  upset  her  temper  and  given  her  a  slight 
headache  and  set  the  neuralgia  faintly  to  threatening. 

He  looked  away.  "  She  has  sacrificed  herself  to 
her  children,"  he  muttered  in  self-reproach  at  his 
thoughts  during  the  past  hour,  at  their  savagely  crit 
ical  climax  on  sight  of  her.  But  the  perverse  voice 
within  him  retorted,  "  Not  so !  She  has  sacrificed  her 
beauty  and  your  love  to  her  indolence."  He  knew  that 
to  blame  a  human  being  for  not  being  different  was 
much  like  blaming  an  apple  tree  for  not  being  a  rose 
bush ;  so,  he  retorted  upon  his  insurgent  self :  "  Still, 
she  couldn't  help  it."  Yet,  by  that  same  rule,  how 
could  he  blame  himself  for  not  being  able  to  accept  her 
as  she  was,  for  not  being,  like  her,  "  settled  "  ? 

"  The  trouble  with  me,"  he  reflected,  "  is  that  I'm 
out  of  work.  I  must  get  in  harness  again.  I  must 
stop — thinking." 

"  Do  come  to  bed !  "  railed  Sophy,  who  had  been 
regarding  him  sourly.  "  You  know  how  the  lights 
distress  me." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,"  apologized  he,  with  an  eager 
and  embroidered  courtesy  that  disconcerted  her. 

He  rose  and  followed  her  upstairs.  Soon  they  were 
asleep  side  by  side — as  peaceful  a  picture  of  domestic 
unity  as  the  moon  saw  in  its  tour  of  the  round  world. 


II 

"WHAT  ELSE  is  THERE ?'* 

MTJRDOCK  was  off  early  next  morning  for  New 
York  to  join  Tom  Berkeley  and  sign  the  final  papers 
and  receive  the  checks  and  securities.  This  business 
was  a  matter  of  a  few  hours.  But,  instead  of  going 
straightway  home  as  he  intended  when  he  left,  he  lin 
gered  in  New  York. 

"Why  rush  back?"  said  Tom.  "You  forget 
you're  free  now.  There's  nothing  to  go  back  to." 

"  That's  a  fact,"  agreed  Murdock. 

"  Except,  of  course,  the  family." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Murdock,  with  unnecessary; 
haste  and  emphasis. 

"  And  I  don't  think,"  Tom  went  on,  "  that  your 
family  bothers  you  much  more  than  mine  does  me.  As 
my  wife  often  says — she's  mighty  shrewd —  As  she 
often  says,  American  men  are  a  race  of  bachelors.  It's 
amusing  to  hear  foreigners  and  these  scrubby  half- 
males  that  do  the  scribbling  talk  about  this  country 
as  the  paradise  of  women,  as  the  place  where  the  women 
run  everything.  We  do  let  the  women  run  the  chil 
dren  and  the  culture  and  the  frivolous  end  of  the 
game.  But  when  it  comes  to  things  worth  while,  the 
women  aren't  in  it.  When  I  talk  to  my  wife  about 
business  or  politics,  it's  just  as  if  I  was  alone  and 
talking  to  myself  to  get  a  line  on  what  I  ought  to  do. 


"WHAT   ELSE   IS    THERE?" 

She  don't  know  the  a  b  c's  of  practical  affairs.  That's 
as  it  should  be." 

Murdock  made  no  comment.  If  he  had  spoken,  it 
would  have  been  simply  to  assent. 

"  The  respectable  women,"  proceeded  Berkeley, 
like  a  man  feeling  his  way  with  another,  "  are  the 
steady  round  of  the  three  plain  square  meals.  The 
others  are  the  occasional  banquet  with  French  cooking 
and  several  kinds  of  wine." 

Murdock  saw  that  Tom  was  breaking  ground  for 
an  attempt  to  induce  him  to  join  in  the  extremely  un 
conventional  relaxations  of  which  he  had  observed  his 
elderly  ex-partner  was  becoming  increasingly  fond, 
and  in  which  he  was  indulging  with  rapidly  accelera 
ting  boldness.  As  he  had  no  intention,  or  inclination, 
to  enter  this  new  partnership,  he  cut  Tom  off  with 
a  curt,  "  Women  don't  interest  me.  I've  forgotten 
how  to  play  games,  and  I'm  too  old  and  too  tired  to 
relearn." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  by  way  of  dismissing  the  sub 
ject  for  the  time,  "  a  man  of  leisure — a  gentleman — 
has  got  to  pass  the  days — and  the  evenings — somehow. 
Maybe,  you'll  find  out  that  you  aren't  older  than  you 
look,  and  aren't  tired  at  all." 

Indeed,  while  he  was  uttering  the  words,  Murdock 
was  thinking  how  false  they  sounded.  In  that  casual 
way  in  which  he  observed  matters  not  directly  con 
nected  with  his  career,  he  had  seen  that  his  wife  was 
losing  her  youth;  and  he  assumed  that  he  himself  was 
"  getting  on,"  also.  And  all  this  had  seemed  natural 
and  proper  because  most  of  the  people  round  about, 
following  the  traditional  unenlightened,  unthinking 
ways  that  lead  to  premature  decrepitude,  physical  and 
mental,  were  aging  even  more  rapidly.  But  what 

39 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Charley  and  Norma  said,  coming  just  when  he  was  in 
the  frame  of  mind  to  hear  and  to  note,  seemed  to  have 
set  him  off  in  a  new  direction.  He  was  watching  un 
easily,  yet  with  growing  fascination,  the  spring  of 
youth,  of  interest  in  the  pleasures  of  youth,  bubbling 
up  within  him,  now  that  the  weight  of  business  care 
had  been  removed  from  its  source.  He  was  making 
dutiful  efforts  to  suppress  it,  like  a  monk  who  fights 
against  being  a  man.  But  his  efforts  only  seemed  to 
demonstrate  how  futile  his  struggle  was.  On  came  the 
spring — sparkling — flooding — overflowing  fields  so 
long  fallow  that  he  had  thought  them  desert. 

Perhaps  the  first  symptom — at  any  rate  the  first 
that  definitely  disquieted  him — was  finding  his  own  eyes 
following  Berkeley's  wandering  glances  at  the  expen 
sive  looking  women  who  are  seen  in  New  York  ever 
more  boldly  and  in  ever-increasing  numbers,  in  public 
places.  When  he  was  a  boy  that  sort  of  women  were 
a  sorry  lot  of  stealthy  creatures,  rarely  seen  in  the 
streets,  visited  only  in  secrecy;  they  were  ignorant, 
could  appeal  only  to  appetite  in  its  coarsest,  crudest 
form,  seldom  saw  respectable  men  not  under  the  in 
fluence  of  drink.  Now 

"  How  clean  and  neat  these  women  are,"  said  Mur- 
dock  to  Tom,  without  suspecting  his  own  deep  hidden 
train  of  thought. 

"  Very  different  from  the  respectable  domestic 
frumps,  ain't  they?  "  replied  Tom,  with  no  intent  to 
stab;  for  he  saw  Sophy  rarely  and  only  when  she  was 
got  up  for  company. 

Murdock  flushed,  glanced  quickly  at  Berkeley,  was 
reassured. 

These  luxurious,  elegant,  expert  women  seemed  to 
have  command  of  all  the  arts  that  appeal  to  the  lighter 

40 


"WHAT  ELSE   IS   THERE?" 

side  of  man's  nature.  They  were  like  fine  wines — could 
be  taken  in  whatever  quantity  the  whim  of  desire  hap 
pened  at  the  moment  to  demand — as  a  gentle,  exhil 
arating  stimulant,  or  as  provokers  and  panders  to  the 
frenzy  of  the  debauch.  They  looked  as  if  with  them 
the  whole  gamut  of  sensation  could  be  run — from  the 
most  delicate  subtle  sensuousness  refined  as  indulgence 
in  a  taste  for  flowers  or  art  or  poetry,  down  and  down, 
and  yet  down.  But  his  intelligence,  aided  by  closer  ob 
servation  of  them,  as  they  disported  themselves  in  his 
neighborhood,  showed  him  that  their  range  was  limited, 
very  limited,  would  satisfy  only  the  moods  of  such  coarse 
and  undiscriminating  tastes  as  those  of  his  friend  Berke 
ley.  After  the  first  glance,  at  the  second  glance,  he 
penetrated  their  shallow  shimmer,  and  they  ceased  more 
than  casually  to  attract  him.  But  they  had  by  no  means 
been  uneifectual.  They  had  moved  him  to  wonder 
vaguely  whether  there  might  not  be  a  woman  who  could 
tempt  him — a  woman  who  did  contain  the  whole  gamut, 
the  appeal  to  every  mood,  a  woman  who  was  the  sum  of 
all  the  delights,  the  woman  he  had  dreamed  as  a  boy. 
And  he  admitted  there  might  be  such  a  one — but  not 
among  these. 

He  made  another  discovery  that  had  immediate 
and  obvious  results. 

The  Puritan  idea  as  to  sobriety  of  dress  soon 
lost  its  influence  over  woman.  It  interfered  too  seri 
ously  with  her  chief  business,  the  winning  of  the  male; 
it  cut  too  savagely  into  profits  and  possibilities  of 
profit  in  sundry  and  divers  industries.  But  this  idea 
has  not  yet  lost  its  hold  upon  the  other  sex,  has  been 
vigorously  assailed  only  within  a  very  few  years,  at 
least  in  America.  Murdock  had  always  accepted  and 
acted  upon  it,  without  giving  the  matter  any  thought 
4  41 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

whatever.  He  inherited  from  his  mother  an  unpuri- 
tanic  instinct  for  neatness  and  cleanness  and  against 
that  profound  slovenliness  which  is  hid  beneath  a  sur 
face  shine.  He  adopted  the  custom  of  bathing  every 
day  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  it,  and  he  put  bathrooms 
into  his  house  long  before  New  York  took  up  cleanli 
ness  as  a  fad.  Also  he  gradually  developed  a  sensi 
tiveness  about  his  linen  and  underclothing.  But  in 
outward  dress  he  conformed  to  the  custom  established 
around  him.  Two  years  before,  he  took  a  valet,  but 
only  because  he  happened  to  observe  how  much  time 
Berkeley's  valet  saved  his  master,  and  how  much  petty 
annoyance.  He  ignored  his  valet's  hints  as  to  the 
meagerness  of  his  wardrobe;  he  assumed  he  had  quite 
as  many  and  as  good  clothes  as  a  sober,  hard-work 
ing,  serious  man  of  affairs  could  afford. 

Now,  however,  he  began  to  observe  the  rapid  revo 
lution  in  man's  dress  that  came  in  America  with  the 
sudden  development  of  wealth  and  leisure.  He  saw 
that  all  the  Eastern  men  of  his  acquaintance,  men  as 
important  in  affairs  as  he,  men  of  far  greater  impor 
tance,  were  most  particular  in  dress — that  they  gave 
it  more  attention  and  spent  more  money  on  it  than  the 
average  woman  of  the  prosperous  classes  out  West. 
He  saw  that  not  only  was  it  not  regarded  as  effemin 
ate  to  be  well  dressed  throughout,  but  also  it  was  re 
garded  as  a  mark  of  crudeness,  of  vulgarity  even,  to 
be  badly  or  carelessly  dressed.  A  few  years  before, 
there  had  not  been  in  New  York's  fashionable  district 
half  a  dozen  shops  for  finery  for  men;  now  he  saw  al 
most  as  many  shops  offering  men's  luxuries  as  shops 
offering  luxuries  for  women.  And  up  rose  within  him 
the  progressive  man's  desire  to  keep  abreast  of  the 
times,  to  dress  like  the  men  of  his  time,  not  like  those 

42 


"WHAT   ELSE   IS    THERE?" 

of  the  more  provincial,  more  Puritanic  era  from 
which  New  York  had  shaken  itself  free.  He  began  to 
shop — to  investigate,  to  discover,  to  order.  The  far 
ther  he  went,  the  more  interested  he  became,  and  the 
more  eager  to  surround  himself  with  the  attractive 
comforts  of  which  he,  through  inattention  and  igno 
rance,  had  been  depriving  himself. 

Education  in  these  matters  came  as  easily  to  Mur- 
dock  as  one  recalls  a  disused  language  one  has  once 
known  well.  If  he  had  thought  about  it  and  had  been 
of  those  who  love  fanciful  explanations  for  common 
place  phenomena,  he  would  have  suspected  himself  of 
having  had  royal  ancestors,  or  of  being  a  reincarna 
tion  of  some  classic  voluptuary.  But  he  was,  in  fact, 
hardly  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing.  It  was  his 
habit  to  decide  a  course  of  action  almost  by  intuition, 
apparently,  and  to  pursue  it  to  its  goal  without  argu 
ment  or  reflection — or  deflection.  He  imagined  he  was 
simply  making  rather  extensive  purchases  to  supply 
too  long  neglected  personal  needs.  In  reality,  he  was 
definitely  breaking  with  his  whole  past.  For,  of  those 
external  forces  that  combine  to  make  us  what  we  are, 
dress  is  one  of  the  most  potent.  It  determines  the 
character  of  our  associations,  determines  the  influences 
that  shall  chiefly  surround  and  press  upon  us.  It  is 
a  covering  for  our  ideas  no  less  than  for  our  bodies. 
True,  in  changing  his  appearance  Charles  Murdock 
was  merely  giving  frank  expression  to  his  real  per 
sonality,  which  had  all  those  years  been  latent  and  un 
suspected  even  by  himself.  But  it  is  also  true  that  if 
he  had  not  thus  given  expression  to  it,  given  it  a  taste 
of  freedom  from  its  lifelong  Puritanic  restraints,  he 
might  easily  have  remained  until  the  end  what  he 
had  so  long  seemed  to  be,  and  had  always  honestly 

43 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

believed  himself  to  be.  Rarely,  indeed,  are  our  acts 
that  seem  crucial  and  decisive  really  of  any  great 
importance;  and  how  often  do  the  seeming  trivialities 
work  the  profound  changes.  Causes,  the  real  causes, 
must  be  sought  with  the  microscope,  not  with  the  tele 
scope. 

The  morning  of  his  last  day  in  New  York  he  hesi 
tated  before  the  glass  when  he  finished  shaving.  Then, 
with  color  in  his  cheeks  and  embarrassed  self-mockery 
in  his  eyes,  he  lathered  the  mustache  he  had  worn  for 
twenty  years.  A  few  strokes  of  the  razor;  the  face 
before  him  transformed.  He  gazed  long  at  it,  not  in 
vanity,  though  vanity  would  have  been  excusable,  but 
with  a  mingling  of  wonder,  pleasure — and  dread.  He 
went  to  the  handsome  new  leather  traveling  box  on 
the  trunk  rests  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  He  lifted  the 
cover  and  from  a  pocket  in  its  lining  took  a  folded 
photograph  case  —  the  pictures  of  his  wife  and 
their  two  children.  He  opened  the  case,  stood  it  up 
on  the  dressing  table  before  him,  studied  the  face  of 
his  wife. 

The  photographs  must  have  been  taken  full  five 
years  before,  for  the  boy  and  the  girl  there  were  not  in 
their  teens.  But  as  early  as  the  birth  of  the  first  baby 
Sophy  had  discarded  the  enchantment  that  captured 
him.  The  vanity  of  clothes  and  jewels  she  retained, 
and,  to  the  limit  of  her  small  knowledge  and  timid 
ideas  of  spending  money,  fostered.  That  cost  her  no 
effort;  she  had  only  to  buy,  the  dealers  even  sparing 
her  the  exertion  of  choosing.  But  at  the  behest  of  in 
dolence  and  self-indulgence  she  put  out  the  eyes  of  her 
vanity  of  personal  appearance.  Why  strive  to  keep 
contour  and  waist  and  youthful  bust  and  hip  measure, 
when  those  carnalities  had  served  their  whole  purpose, 

44 


"WHAT  ELSE   IS   THERE?" 

when  the  only  man  she  needed  to  please  was  solemnly 
pledged  to  be  permanently  pleased  under  the  seal  of 
the  marriage  vows? 

Guiltily  Murdock  folded  the  case  and  put  it  away. 
"  I  ought  to  be  ashamed,"  he  muttered. 

And  he  was;  but  we  cannot  shame  ourselves  away 
from  thought. 

He  dined  in  the  men's  cafe  of  the  Waldorf  that 
night.  Not  that  he  had  definitely  reasoned  out  his 
peril ;  simply  an  instinctive  wariness  of  the  impulses 
now  astir  at  the  very  surface  before  a  straight  admir 
ing  glance  into  his  rejuvenated  face  from  any  woman 
with  beauty  and  slenderness  and  that  alluring  New 
York  scrupulousness  as  to  the  smallest  detail  of  person 
and  dress.  All  those  years  he  had  been  bent  over  his 
task;  now  he  had  dropped  it,  was  in  the  doorway  of 
his  bare,  dismal  workshop,  was  looking  out  over  the 
world,  beckoning  him  to  the  far-stretching  sensuous 
gardens  radiant  in  the  sunshine.  And  the  youth  within 
him  was  saying :  "  You  have  slighted,  suppressed  me 
long  enough.  I  demand  my  right  to  live,  to  enjoy. 
You  cannot  hold  me  in  leash  with  this  slender  cord  of 
duty  and  propriety.  I  shall  compel  you  to  live  before 
you  grow  old  and  die." 

Murdock  was  in  his  doorway,  was  pretending  to 
himself  that  he  had  no  intention  of  advancing.  But 
his  late  partner  made  no  such  pretenses — indeed,  never 
had.  "  It's  amazing  how  many  of  the  good-looking 
females  are  in  this  part  of  New  York,"  said  Tom,  ad 
dressing  no  one  in  particular,  as  he  and  Murdock  and 
their  chief  New  York  lawyer,  Morris,  sat  at  dinner  in 
Delmonico's  palm  garden.  Tom's  bold,  greedy  eyes 
were  roaming  restlessly.  Whenever  they  found  a 
woman  to  his  taste,  their  expression  was  enough  to 

45 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

give  her  the  sense  of  actual  handling  by  those  thick, 
white  hairy  fingers  of  the  sensualist. 

"  They  bear  a  casual  glance  fairly  well,"  conceded 
Morris,  with  a  sour  thought  for  his  own  fashion 
able  "  home."  "  They're  always  on  the  watchout  for 
men  with  money.  That's  all  the  women  care  about  now 
adays — the  money  to  keep  'em  going." 

Murdock  could  not  have  colored  more  uncomfortably 
had  Morris  been  aiming  directly  at  him.  "  Of  course 
that's  why,"  thought  he.  "  They  suspect  me  of  having 
money." 

But  somehow  the  reflection  did  not  make  them  less 
attractive.  Their  skins  looked  just  as  clear  and  cool 
and  soft;  their  sensuously  draped  figures  and  the  lan 
guorous  shine  of  their  eyes  were  just  as  alluring.  "  I 
seem  bent  on  making  a  damn  fool  of  myself,"  he  jeered 
at  himself  angrily.  "  I  must  get  back  home." 

And  next  morning  he  was  off  in  his  private  car, 
Berkeley  reluctantly  consenting  to  go  with  him.  The 
first  few  hours  they  talked  business — the  successful  set 
tlement,  the  enormous  profit,  the  future  investments. 
But  neither  was  interested ;  each  was  secretly  revolving 
the  same  idea.  Berkeley  brought  it  toward  the  surface 
by  saying :  "  Well,  Charles,  and  what  are  you  going  to 
do  to  pass  the  time?  Our  places  on  the  board  needn't 
give  us  much  worry." 

Murdock  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Rather  extensive  orders  you  left  at  that  tailor's," 
teased  Berkeley.  "  And  why  this  sudden  interest  in  ties 
and  shirts  and  silk  socks  and  fine  underclothes — and 
pyjamas — with  big  monograms  in  colors.  Suspicious — 
that,  old  man.  Those  monograms !  " 

Murdock's  response  was  a  slight  indifferent  laugh. 

"Beginning  to  sit  up  and  take  notice,  eh?"  sug- 
46 


"WHAT   ELSE   IS   THERE?" 

gested  Tom  with  a  chuckle  that  got  upon  Murdock's 
nerves.     "  Next  thing,  you'll  be  looking  for  trouble." 

"  What  are  your  plans  ?  "  inquired  Murdock,  appar 
ently  not  the  least  interested  in  Tom's  diagnosis. 

"  No  more  business  for  me,  thank  you,"  replied 
Berkeley,  easily  set  off  upon  the  subject  that  occupied 
him  exclusively — himself.  "  I  never  did  have  any  taste 
for  it.  I'm  going  to  shoot  and  fish,  race  horses,  travel 
a  bit — perhaps,  do  a  little  collecting.  One  thing  is  cer 
tain.  I'm  going  to  live  in  little  old  New  York.  No  more 
town  or  country  for  me.  The  finest  views  on  earth  are 
out  over  the  roofs  of  houses — acres  and  acres  of  roofs. 
Then  you  feel  that  you've  got  human  beings  round  you, 
that  there's  something  doing." 

He  half  closed  his  eyes,  leaned  back,  blew  a  great 
cloud  of  smoke  upward,  and  seemed  to  be  enjoying  with 
all  his  senses  the  visions  in  the  cloud.  "  I  always  get 
rooms  in  New  York  high  up,  where  I  can  look  out  over 
the  city.  Talk  about  the  elixir  of  youth — it's  the  air 
of  a  big  city !  The  people  don't  dodder  and  rot  in  a  big 
city.  They  livel  They've  got  something  to  live  for. 
They  keep  their  youth  and  their  looks — and  their  minds. 
It  takes  a  city,  a  smashing  big  city,  to  turn  out  the  right 
sort  of  men  and  women,  and  good  food  and  plenty  of 
amusement.  And  everybody  isn't  prying  into  your 
affairs  all  the  time." 

Murdock  glanced  at  Berkeley  with  good-humored 
irony.  Berkeley's  expression  became  somewhat  sheepish. 
Said  Murdock :  "  We  know  what  it  means,  when  a  man 
or  a  woman  complains  of  being  spied  on." 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  feel  that  way, 
Charles,"  retorted  Berkeley.  "  You're  content  at  home." 

"  Rather !  "  exclaimed  Murdock,  precipitate  and  vig 
orous. 

47 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I'm  fond  of  her"  Berkeley  continued.  It  was  his 
habit  to  speak  of  his  wife  as  her  or  she,  varying  occasion 
ally  with  "  Mrs.  B."  "  I  didn't  marry  till  I  was  old 
enough  to  know  what  I  was  about." 

Murdock  moved  uneasily,  looked  sharply  at  the  un- 
intending  Tom. 

"  And,"  pursued  he  without  pause,  "  I've  never  re 
gretted.  She  keeps  herself  up  to  the  mark — looks  the 
part.  She's  a  fine,  superior  woman — cultured.  There 
ain't  any  big  cultured  subject  she  can't  go  to  the  mat 
with.  Just  the  thing  for  the  home.  But  she  lives  on  too 
high  a  plane  for  an  ordinary  chap.  I  tell  you,  Charles, 
the  truth  about  married  life  is  it's  too  damned  pure  for 
just  a  human  being  like  me.  I  haven't  been  myself,  ex 
cept  in  spurts,  since  I  was  a  bachelor  kicking  round. 
Not  that  I'm  objecting  to  the  purity  of  the  home.  On 
the  contrary,  I'm  hot  for  it.  It's  like  religion  and  all 
those  kind  of  things.  It's  necessary  for  the  women 
and  the  children — for  the  welfare  of  society.  But  a 
man  must  have  his  cigar  and  his  drink — and  his  latch 
key." 

His  eyes  twinkled  and  the  end  of  his  nose  twitched. 
His  eyes  and  his  nose  suggested  a  pig's,  but  not  repul 
sively,  because  both  eyes  and  nose,  the  one  hardly  less 
than  the  other,  were  of  the  humorous  cast — the  ferocity 
and  greediness  of  the  appetites  almost  neutralized  by  the 
good-natured  content  of  the  whole  animal.  He  glanced 
at  Murdock  for  approval.  Murdock  was  gazing  out 
into  the  flying  landscape.  There  was  nothing  in  his  face 
to  encourage  Berkeley;  but  Berkeley,  in  the  habit  of 
finding  what  he  sought,  felt  encouraged. 

"  Of  course  she  looks  down  on  me — and  probably  I 
deserve  it.  But — "  He  sprawled  more  comfortably  in 
the  easy  chair —  "  I  don't  mind,  so  long  as  she  lets  me 

48 


"WHAT   ELSE   IS   THERE?" 

alone.  Damn  it,  I  didn't  create  myself.  Anyhow, 
ain't  I  just  a  natural  man,  not  afraid  to  be  what  I 
am?" 

Murdock  surveyed  the  powerful,  healthy,  well-fed, 
well-dressed  figure.  He  had  the  habit  of  giving  people 
a  noncommittal  look,  no  hint  of  verdict  one  way  or  the 
other. 

Berkeley  grinned.  "  I  suppose  you're  thinking  I'm 
an  old  fool — that  the  women'll  make  an  ass  of  me." 

"  Is  that  what  you're  thinking  ?  " 

"  Well,  that's  what  the  women  think.  Do  you  sup 
pose  7  don't  know  it?  They  might  still  get  up  real  en 
thusiasm  for  you."  He  inventoried  Murdock's  attrac 
tive  exterior  with  one  quick  glance  of  good-humored 
envy.  "  You're  like  a  boy  just  out  of  college,  now  that 
your  mustache  is  off.  While  I —  Look  at  the  roll  of 
fat  under  my  chin  and  at  the  back  of  my  head ;  look  at 
my  bald  poll  and  the  tufts  of  gray  hair  in  my  ears  and 
nose."  Berkeley  laughed  cheerily.  "  I  never  was  a 
beauty.  I've  small  doubt — in  fact,  I'm  sure — she  mar 
ried  me  more  for  a  home  than  because  she  took  a  shine 
to  my  looks.  But  what  do  I  care?  I  got  her,  didn't 
I  ?  .  .  .  I  remember,  when  I  used  to  see  an  old  chap  going 
about  with  some  fair,  fresh  young  thing,  I'd  sneer  at  him 
and  call  him  an  old  dodderer  for  believing  the  stuff  the 
girl  was  ladling  out  to  him,  simply  to  get  hold  of  his 
money.  But  that  was  because  I  didn't  understand.  I 
know  now  what's  going  on  in  the  old  chaps'  heads." 
The  humorous  twinkle  of  the  eyes,  the  humorous  twitch 
of  the  end  of  the  nose.  "  Us  old  fellows  realize  perfectly 
that  it's  all  a  matter  of  money  with  the  lady — that  she 
has  hard  work  to  conceal  her  dislike.  But,  damn  it,  she 
does  conceal  it.  She  don't  dare  show  it.  And  we  get  for 
money  just  as  good,  to  all  practical  purposes,  as  we'd 

49 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

get  for  like,  and  we  haven't  the  annoyance  of  being  liked 
—loved." 

Murdock  gave  a  quick  glance  of  dissent.  Berkeley 
would  not  have  understood,  had  he  noted;  his  imagina 
tion  had  no  wings.  "  A  sensible  man  wants  to  love  a 
woman,"  he  proceeded,  "  but  he  don't  want  love  from 
her.  Love  means  jealousy,  hanging  on  when  a  man 
wants  to  go.  It  means  scenes  and  tears  and  no  end  of 
sloppy  gush." 

"  That  sounds  like  good  business  sense,"  commented 
Murdock.  He  was  not  certain  whether  he  was  more  re 
pelled  or  more  roused  to  envy  by  his  friend  and  partner's 
views. 

"  I  never  could  see  why  men  don't  apply  common 
sense  to  their  relations  with  women  just  as  they  do  to 
business,"  pursued  Berkeley.  "  What  the  world  needs  is 
to  be  got  on  a  sound  business  basis,  and  all  this  silly 
slush  of  sentiment  done  away  with.  I  want  friends  who 
do  something  for  me  in  exchange  for  what  I  do  for  them. 
Give  and  take — that's  the  right  basis.  I  never  yet  saw 
a  sentimental  friendship  or  a  love  affair,  where  one 
party,  and  usually  both,  wasn't  longing — yes,  by  gad, 
and  scheming — to  get  something  for  nothing.  But  all 
this  isn't  an  answer  to  my  question.  Don't  be  so  damn 
secretive.  You  needn't  be  afraid  you'll  shock  me.  Tell 
me  what  you're  going  to  do.  .  .  .  I've  an  idea  you'll 
rush  back  to  business.  You  don't  care  much  for  friends 
or  for  the  ladies,  God  bless  'em — though  those  gorgeous 
monograms " 

"  Business,  I  guess,"  said  Murdock.  He  looked  som 
ber,  and  his  tone  was  somberer. 

"  That's  where  you  get  your  happiness." 

"  Occupation,"  corrected  Murdock  brusquely.  "  I'm 
not  looking  for  happiness.  Happiness  is  like  that  love 

50 


"WHAT   ELSE   IS   THERE?" 

you  rail  against.  It's  hard  to  get,  impossible  to  keep, 
hard  to  get  over." 

"That  depends  on  what  you  mean  by  happiness.  You 
don't  include  my  kind.  I  intend  to  get  and  to  keep 
myself  in  A-l  physical  condition — lots  of  fresh  air 
und  exercise,  little  food,  less  drink,  no  excesses.  I'll 
treat  my  five  senses  like  so  many  valuable  workmen 
that  you  can't  replace — work  'em  up  to  capacity, 
but  see  that  they  have  plenty  of  rest  and  recupera 
tion.  I'll  live  thirty  years  yet — thirty  good  years, 
for  I'm  only  fifty-five."  The  end  of  his  long,  strong 
nose  twitched.  "  And  I'll  enjoy  every  minute  of  them. 
And  I  tell  you,  Murdock — "  He  gave  his  thick  leg 
a  thwack  with  his  hairy,  well-kept  hand — "  I'll  be 
liked  better  and  spread  more  sunshine  in  surrounding 
myself  with  cheerfulness  than  any  of  the  high-plane 
people." 

"  Probably,"  said  Murdock.  With  an  expression 
far  from  flattering  he  studied  the  sybarite,  now  ab 
sorbed  in  the  dreams  he  had  conjured.  Berkeley  was 
one  of  those  rich  voluptuaries  who  note  and  keenly  en 
joy  every  item  of  the  luxury  and  comfort  and  consid 
eration  their  riches  give  them.  As  he  smoked  he  looked 
with  shining  eyes  at  the  costly  cigar,  enjoying  its 
color,  its  fine  unbroken  ash ;  and  each  time  he  put  it  to 
his  mouth  he  tasted  it,  rolling  it  over  his  thick  moist 
lips.  There  is  an  animalism  self-delighted  and  self- 
unconscious  that  has  a  certain  fascination.  Such  was 
Berkeley's;  and  Murdock  would  no  more  have  con 
demned  him  than  he  would  have  condemned  a  pig.  But 
the  Berkeley  plan  of  life  had  small  attraction  for  him. 
It  was  too  infantile,  too  much  like  leading  processions 
of  children  endlessly  through  candy  shops.  He  envied 
Tom  the  ability  to  be  a  child,  a  mere  animal;  but 

51 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

he  himself  must  adapt  his  own  life  to  his  own  tempera 
ment.  "  Business,  I  guess,"  reflected  he,  "  with  possi 
bly  politics.  What  else  is  there?  "  He  was  intense,  con 
centrated;  he  could  not  wander  aimlessly  even  in  the 
garden  of  pleasure. 


Ill 


"A    GOOD    WOMAN,    BUT " 

HE  was  descending  at  the  side  door  from  the  auto 
that  brought  him  from  the  station  when  his  son,  on  the 
porch,  cried  out :  "  Why,  father !  Your  mustache  is 
off!" 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Murdock,  feeling  his  lip,  as  if  just 
discovering  his  loss. 

"  Look  at  his  lip,  mother !  "  cried  Charley,  as  Sophy 
appeared.  There  being  "  nobody  "  to  see,  she  was  in  her 
normal  state — the  private  condition  of  those  who  like  to 
live  one  way  in  the  parlor  and  another  in  the  rest  of  the 
house.  Her  hair,  carelessly  done,  showed  it  had  not  been 
washed  recently.  There  was  a  highly  unbecoming  shine 
on  her  face.  Her  ill-fitting  corset,  her  blouse  so  badly 
cut  that  it  pulled  across  the  bust,  would  have  made  her 
lack  of  symmetry  grotesque  to  unaccustomed  eyes.  The 
only  feature  of  her  toilet  not  unattractive  was  her  shoes. 
She  was  extremely  proud  of  her  feet,  as  indeed  she  had 
reason  to  be.  And  she  always  wore  boots  or  shoes  or  slip 
pers  worthy  of  them.  But  usually,  as  now,  her  feet  were 
hidden  by  the  bottom  of  a  dowdy  skirt.  She  fixed  a  dis 
approving  gaze  upon  her  husband's  shaven  lip. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for  ?  "  she  demanded,  as  he 
touched  the  cheek  she  offered  for  the  perfunctory  matri 
monial  salute.  Her  voice  was  sour,  suspicious. 

"  I've  often  intended  to  shave  it,  as  I  never  liked  it," 
53 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

said  he.  "  But  I've  always  been  too  busy — in  too  big 
a  rush  to  get  through  and  away." 

"  Now,  you  look  younger  than  ever,"  cried  Charley. 
"  If  I  were  mother,  I'd  keep  an  eye  on  you." 

"  Where  did  you  learn  to  talk  so  low  ?  "  said  his 
mother  severely.  "  You  never  heard  that  kind  at  home." 

"  Mother — mother !  "  exclaimed  her  son,  exasper 
ated.  "  Haven't  you  got  any  sense  of  humor  ?  " 

But  Sophy  was  moodily  eying  his  father,  who  was 
giving  orders  to  the  chauffeur.  The  boy  went  into  the 
house.  "  What  were  you  doing  in  New  York  so  long  ?  " 
she  demanded,  when  the  auto  was  gone  and  her  husband 
returned  to  her. 

"  I've  been  gone  only  about  a  month,"  was  his  reply 
in  a  mollifying  tone,  though  it  irritated  him  to  be  thus 
cross-examined.  Never  before  had  he  had  the  experi 
ence. 

"  I  wanted  to  go,"  she  went  on.  "  But  you  said  it'd 
simply  be  a  case  of  there  and  back." 

"  You  told  me  nothing  about  wanting  to  go.  If  you 
wish  to  go  to  New  York,  why  don't  you?  What's  to 
prevent?  " 

"  You  know  I  couldn't,  without  you.  I  wouldn't 
give  people  cause  to  talk." 

"  I  think  your  reputation  would  weather  it,"  said  he, 
with  intent  of  pleasantry. 

Her  eyes  snapped.  "  That's  right — insult  me ! 
Taunt  me  because  I've  sacrificed  myself  to  you  and  the 
children." 

"  Sophy !  "  he  exclaimed  in  astonishment.  He  had 
no  suspicion  that  during  the  month  she,  too,  had  been 
revolving  thoughts  suggested  by  their  children's  care 
less  talk.  Even  where  women,  or  men,  are  forced  by 
flaunted  signs  to  admit  they  are  "  not  what  I  once  was-" 

54 


"A    GOOD    WOMAN,   BUT—3' 

a  very  little  flattery,  however  faintly  insinuated,  will 
cause  vanity  to  perk  up  and  to  become  fantastically 
optimistic.  Sophy  Murdock,  studying  her  reflection  in 
the  mirror  with  the  infatuate  eyes  we  turn  upon  our 
selves,  discovered  that  her  change  was  hardly  more  than 
in  style  of  beauty,  that  she  had  merely  bloomed  from  the 
girlish  into  the  womanly.  If  she  had  believed  her  own 
oft-repeated  phrases  of  self-depreciation,  she  would 
never  have  uttered  them. 

She  was  waiting  now  for  him  to  smooth  her  ruffled 
vanity.  But  the  unconscious  Murdock  busied  himself 
unbuttoning  the  dust  coat  he  had  worn  in  the  auto.  As 
he  took  it  off,  he  revealed  a  new  suit  of  traveling  tweeds 
of  far  more  youthful  cut  and  style  than  he  had  ever 
worn  before;  and,  instead  of  the  familiar  four-in-hand 
tie  of  some  unobtrusive  pattern,  there  fluttered  before 
his  wife's  wide,  wrathful  eyes  a  bright  butterfly  of 
summer  silk.  At  the  effect  of  his  new  finery  upon  her 
he  flushed;  the  flush  spread  as  he  grew  angry  at  him 
self  for  showing  embarrassment,  angry  at  her  for  hav 
ing  the  unexpected  shrewdness  to  penetrate  the  reasons 
for  this  blossoming  out — reasons  he  was  not  admitting 
to  himself. 

"  I  knew  it !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I've  had  a  presenti 
ment  all  the  time  you've  been  away.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself,  Charles  Murdock — for  the  chil 
dren's  sake  even  if  you  haven't  any  regard  for  my  feel- 
ings." 

"What  now?"  cried  he. 

"  To  come  back  home,  dressed  like  a  boy  that's  run 
ning  round  with  the  girls.  You,  a  settled  married  man, 
with  grown  children." 

"  Sophy,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  demanded ;  for  he 
now  realized  that  she  was  stirred  to  the  depths, 

55 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  It's  for  me  to  ask  what's  come  over  you"  retorted 
she.  No  longer  could  she  deny  to  herself  that  anybody 
would  say  this  husband  of  hers  looked  younger  than 
she,  might  put  it  that  he  "  looks  almost  young  enough 
to  be  her  son."  And  he,  deliberately  dressing  himself 
to  encourage  malignance — it  was  intolerable !  "  I 
thought,"  she  sneered,  "  you  had  sense  enough  to  be 
sober  and  dignified,  as  you  should  be  at  your  time  of 
life." 

He  felt  apologetic  before  her  fury,  felt  he  must  try 
to  calm  her.  Also,  there  would  presently  be  disclosed 
that  entire  new  wardrobe,  extensive,  luxurious,  gay  be 
yond  any  apparel  he  had  ever  possessed.  "  Sophy,  don't 
you  think  we'd  be  making  a  mistake  to  let  ourselves 
grow  old  before  there's  any  necessity  for  it  ?  The  world 
has  changed.  When  we  were  children,  people  looked  on 
themselves  as  *  out  of  it '  and  on  the  way  to  old  age  long 
before  they  were  forty.  That  isn't  the  way  nowa 
days " 

"  I've  got  no  liking  for  foolishness,"  she  cut  in. 
"  We're  grown-up  people.  I,  for  one,  don't  propose  to 
make  a  fool  of  myself  by  trying  to  act  otherwise.  When 
I  was  a  child,  as  the  apostle  says,  I  acted  like  a  child. 
But  now  that  I'm  grown,  I've  put  away  childish  things." 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  replied  he  persuasively. 
"But  it's  not  what  I'm  talking  about.  I'm  simply 
saying,  it's  not  dignity  but  a  very  unwise  kind  of  lazi 
ness  to  give  up  physically.  It  reacts  and  makes  one 
sodden  and  stupid " 

"  So !  You  think  your  wife  sodden  and  stupid,  do 
you?"  Her  heavy  face  was  red  with  rage;  her  eyes 
blazed  at  him  a  fury  that  was  very  like  hatred.  "  Sod 
den  and  stupid ! " 

He  made  an  impatient  gesture,  gave  her  a  look  that 
56 


"A    GOOD    WOMAN,   BUT—" 

cowed  her  into  silence;  for  she  did  not  understand  him, 
and  we  are  all  in  awe  of  what  we  do  not  understand, 
and  can  be  frightened  by  its  unfathomed  possibilities. 
He  went  into  the  house,  shut  himself  up  in  the  library, 
At  dinner  he  spoke  only  when  Charley  or  Norma  ad 
dressed  him  directly;  his  wife  did  not  venture  even  to 
glance  at  him.  After  dinner  he  retired  to  the  library 
again,  not  to  reappear  until  eleven  o'clock.  She  was 
still  in  the  sitting  room,  though  it  was  an  hour  past  her 
bedtime.  He  had  been  looking  at  her  several  minutes, 
as  she  sat  humped  up  and  reading  a  novel,  before  she 
realized  that  he  was  in  the  room. 

"Are  you  ready  to  go  to  bed?"  said  she,  laying 
aside  the  novel  and  rising. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  and  opened  the  door  for  her  to 
pass  out. 

When  they  were  in  the  dressing  room  they  used  in 
common,  she  by  way  of  overture  toward  resuming  their 
ordinary  relations  began  crossly,  "  I  had  to  wait  for 
you.  It  disturbs  me  when  you  come  to  bed  after 
I  do." 

"  You  spoke  of  this  the  other  day,"  said  he.  A  long 
pause,  then  he  added :  "  You  know,  I  once  suggested 
we'd  be  more  comfortable  with  separate  dressing  and 
sleeping  rooms." 

"  I  know  you  did,"  snapped  she,  and  anger  made  her 
fingers  so  clumsy  that  she  tore  out  a  buttonhole  in  her 
blouse.  "  And  I  told  you  what  I  thought  of  it.  I  wasn't 
brought  up  with  such  immoral  ideas.  Husband  and 
wife  are  one  flesh.  They  belong  together." 

"  As  you  please." 

When  she  was  in  bed,  and  he  about  ready  to  join 
her,  he  went  toward  the  windows.     "  Don't  touch  those 
windows,"  cried  she.     "  Leave  them  shut." 
5  57 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

"  The  room's  so  close,  I  can  hardly  stand  it  now,"  he 
began. 

"  Not  a  thought  for  me ! "  railed  she.  "  Never  a 
thought  for  me.  It's  the  open  windows  that  have  been 
giving  me  the  neuralgia.  Katy  warned  me,  but  I  didn't 
pay  attention.  I  was  brought  up  to  be  careful  and  keep 
out  the  poisonous  night  air,  but  you  would  have  every 
thing  open,  and  I  never  insist  on  myself.  I  got  rid  of 
the  neuralgia  while  you  were  away,  and  I  won't  go  back 
to  it." 

"  But  the  night's  very  warm — hot." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  brutal !  But,  then,  what'd  you 
care,  if  I  was  tortured  with  pain  ?  " 

"  Very  well — very  well,"  interrupted  he.  "  The  win 
dows  stay  shut." 

When  the  lights  were  out,  she  tossed  and  turned 
irritably,  more  wide  awake  than  when  she  was  up  and 
dressed.  Dr.  Schulze  had  once  told  her  that  in  her 
case,  as  with  almost  all  the  pathetic  victims  of  mental 
anguish,  there  was  a  purely  physical  reason  for  insom 
nia,  quite  sufficient  to  account  for  it — and  for  her 
headaches,  neuralgia,  sciatica,  and  all  her  woes,  mental 
and  physical.  He  had  said  she  had  that  painless  kind 
of  indigestion  which  gives  no  physical  warning  but 
causes  ferocious  attacks  of  "  the  blues  "  by  day,  and 
drives  sleep  from  the  eyes  at  night  and  keeps  the  mind 
tossing  in  a  foaming  flood  of  melancholy  fancies.  But 
she  disdained  this  unspiritual  explanation.  And  now  it 
was  her  husband  only,  the  anxieties  he  was  causing  her, 
that  made  her  thus  miserably  wakeful.  She  told  her 
self  that  while  he  was  away  in  New  York  somebody 
— "  probably  that  low  Tom  Berkeley,  perhaps  some 
woman  " — had  filled  him  with  silliness  and  wickedness. 
"  I  couldn't  go  with  him.  I've  got  the  house  and  the 

58 


"A    GOOD    WOMAN,   BUT—" 

children  to  look  after — and  my  health  poor  from  all 
my  toiling  and  slaving."  In  fact,  she  had  had  servants 
to  wait  upon  her  all  her  married  life,  had  done  no  toil 
ing,  much  less  slaving.  But  "  toiling  and  slaving " 
was  one  of  her  pet  phrases,  got  from  her  mother,  who 
had  excuse,  perhaps  right,  to  use  it.  By  reiteration 
any  idea,  however  palpably  absurd,  gradually  wins  ac 
ceptance,  if  nobody  has  any  especial  reason  of  interest 
to  combat  it.  Sophy  had  made  not  only  herself  but 
also  her  family,  and  the  people  of  Saint  X  generally, 
believe  that  she  had  "  toiled  and  slaved "  by  saying 
it  frequently  and  with  plaintive  meekness.  "  Hus 
bands,"  ran  on  the  gloomy  current  of  her  wakeful  night 
thoughts,  "  ought  never  to  be  allowed  to  go  away  with 
out  their  wives.  Men  are  so  weak  and  coarse.  Now, 
here  he's  come  home,  a  moral  wreck." 

How  reclaim  him?  Not  how  make  him  again  the 
lover.  No,  not  the  lover  again;  there  was  a  time  for 
the  "  foolishness  "  of  passion,  and  a  time  for  putting 
"  foolishness  "  forever  aside.  No,  not  the  lover  again. 
How  make  him  a  model  husband,  even  as  she  was  a 
model  wife — a  sober,  sensible,  "  settled  "  person  ? 

While  she  tossed  and  fretted  and  raged  he  lay  be 
side  her  motionless,  but  as  far  from  sleep  as  she.  He 
had  trained  himself  to  dismiss  at  will  any  disagreeable 
subject  when  revolving  it  would  avail  nothing.  But 
that  night  he  could  not  dismiss  the  odor  from  her  hair. 
She  never  washed  it  while  one  of  her  spells  was  on,  and 
she  would  not  resume  the  not  very  frequent  washings 
until  absolutely  sure  she  was  entirely  well.  He  lay  as 
near  his  edge  of  the  bed  as  he  could;  he  tried  to  con 
vince  himself  that  he  was  yielding  to  perverse  and  most 
unkind  imagination.  In  vain.  With  the  windows 
tight  closed  the  air  was  so  close  that  in  ordinary  cir- 

59 


OLD  WIVES  FOB   NEW 

cumstances  he  would  soon  have  been  stupefied  into  a 
semblance  of  slumber.  But  every  time  she  twisted  or 
turned  there  arose  from  her  mop  of  hair  that  strong, 
sour,  sickening  odor  to  rouse  his  nerves  from  on- 
creeping  stupor,  to  sting  them  till  they  quivered. 

"  Good  God !  "  he  muttered,  "  surely  a  little  soap  and 
water  wouldn't  kill  her !  " 

He  reminded  himself,  by  way  of  self-reproach,  that 
he  had  often  before  noticed  this  odor,  and  others  even 
more  trying,  yet  had  not  been  thus  insurgent.  "  It's  the 
closed  windows,"  thought  he.  "  If  they  were  open,  even 
an  inch  or  so " 

But  the  shut  windows  did  not  wholly  account  for 
the  change  in  him,  though  he  fancied  they  did.  There 
tofore  he  had  accepted  her  slovenliness,  personal  and  in 
the  household,  as  necessary  incidents  to  married  life, 
as  in  a  way  the  conventional  signs  of  the  domestic  woman 
— of  the  virtuous  "  homebody,"  free  from  "  foolishness." 
Now,  with  the  new  ideas  that  had  come  as  soon  as  he 
had  begun  to  put  his  mind  to  other  than  merely  com 
mercial  uses — or,  rather,  the  newly  awakened  part  of  his 
nature — he  was  beginning  to  question,  to  dispute,  to 
deny — to  flout  his  long  dominant  other  self  of  the  old- 
fashioned  ideas  and  of  the  old-fashioned  unquestioning 
reverence  for  custom  and  tradition. 

"  No  wonder  men  fly  from  home  to  those  other 
women,"  he  muttered,  with  somewhat  the  blasphemer's 
combination  of  fear  and  recklessness.  "  Why,  if  they 
acted  like  this  they  wouldn't  make  their  salt." 

If  he  had  not  quarreled  with  her  that  afternoon  he 
would  have  risen  up  and  passed  the  night  on  the  sofa 
down  in  his  library.  As  it  was,  he  stiffened  his  nerves 
and  lay  quiet.  "  She's  far  too  good  for  me,  anyway," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  I'm  getting  to  be  a  kicker  and  a 

60 


"A    GOOD    WOMAN,   BUT—' 

crank  like  all  idlers.    I  must  go  to  work  again  or  I  don't 
know  where  I'll  land." 

But  these  reflections  seemed  to  have  no  calming  effect 
upon  the  odor.  "  Yes,"  thought  he,  "  she's  a  good 
woman,  but  it  does  seem  to  me  I'd  wash  at  least  my 
hair  now  and  then,  and  risk  neuralgia.  It  can't  be 
much  worse  than  this." 


IV 


HE  waited  until  her  breathing  assured  him  he  was 
free;  then  he  stealthily  rose  and  went  into  the  dressing 
room,  softly  closing  the  door  between.  Wrapped  in  a 
bath  robe,  and  covered  with  an  afghan,  he  got  a  few 
hours'  sleep  on  the  little  lounge  there  near  an  open  win 
dow.  When  she  awoke  it  was  nearly  nine  o'clock ;  as 
he  was  very  regular  she  knew  he  had  been  gone  since  half 
past  seven.  We  are  all  surprised  to  find  our  troubles 
with  us  after  a  sleep ;  Sophy  was  not  an  exception.  In 
addition  to  her  mental  or  moral  woes  there  was  now  a 
fierce  headache.  Also,  a  sciatic  pain  was  stabbing  at  her 
left  side.  "  He'll  be  the  death  of  me,"  she  moaned. 
"  After  the  life  I've  led  I've  not  got  much  endurance 
left."  She  rang  for  Katy,  and  said  to  her:  "I 
don't  want  any  breakfast.  I  couldn't  swallow  a 
mouthful." 

Katy  was  prepared  for  this,  and  had  her  habitual 
answer  ready.  "  Oh,  but  you  must  eat  something,  Mrs. 
Murdock,"  urged  she.  "  You  know  it's  mighty  bad  to 
begin  the  day  on  an  empty  stomach.  I'll  just  go  down 
and  have  the  cook  fix  you  up  something  tempting  and 
tasty." 

"  Well,  I'll  do  my  best,"  conceded  Sophy,  speaking, 
and  feeling,  as  if  she  were  doing  Katy  a  favor.  "  I  do 

62 


MY   LIFE'S   OVER 


believe  coffee  is  bad  for  me.  You  might  bring  me  choco 
late — with  a  little  whipped  cream." 

"  Cream's  very  nourishing.  They've  got  some  nice 
sausages — very  light  and  small." 

"  Just  one,  Katy.  And  maybe  I  could  eat  a  few  corn 
cakes  if  they're  crisp  and  thin." 

While  Katy  was  gone  Mrs.  Murdock  lay  motionless, 
hoping  to  allay  the  throbbing  in  her  head.  "  Thank 
God,"  said  she,  "  I've  got  a  good  digestion.  I  don't 
know  what'd  become  of  me  if  I  couldn't  eat  enough  to 
keep  up  my  strength." 

In  her  healthy,  vigorous  girlhood  every  pleasure  of 
the  senses  attracted  her.  But  eating  being  the  only 
pleasure  that  calls  for  no  effort  whatever  she  had  now 
narrowed  down  to  it,  and  was  in  the  way  to  become  a 
glutton.  When  Katy  appeared  with  the  breakfast  tray 
she  at  once  felt  a  little  better.  The  odor  from  it — from 
the  sausage,  the  well-browned  hot  cakes,  the  chocolate 
— was  most  stimulating.  She  sat  up  in  bed,  put 
both  the  pillows  behind  her.  The  big  oily  coil  into 
which  her  hair  had  been  done  for  the  night  was  loose 
and  hung  over  one  ear,  threatening  to  fall.  She  took 
it  down  and  rerolled  it.  "  I  think  we'll  have  to  wash 
my  hair  soon,  Katy,"  said  she.  "  It's  getting  so  it'll 
hardly  stay  up.  What  a  trouble  long  hair  is !  Now 
— put  the  tray  on  my  lap.  Why,  you've  brought  three 
sausages." 

"  There's  really  nothing  to  'em,  Mrs.  Murdock. 
They  just  melt  away.  And  you  mustn't  starve  yourself, 
you  know." 

Sophy  fell  to,  ate  all  the  sausages,  all  the  cakes,  drank 
two  cups  of  the  chocolate  with  whipped  cream.  Katyj 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  bring  more.  But  Sophy  re 
sisted.  "  No,  I  guess  I'd  better  not.  It's  only  three 

63 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

hours   till   lunch,   and   I   think   I've   taken  enough  to 
stay  me." 

"  And  you  do  feel  better,  don't  you,  ma'am?  " 

"  Very  much,"  replied  Sophy.  "  I'll  just  lie  here  a 
few  moments,  and  then  I  think  I'll  be  strong  enough  to 
get  up  and  dress." 

Katy  took  away  the  tray.  When  she  returned  Sophy 
was  groaning.  "  It's  come  back !  "  she  cried.  "  My  head 
feels  as  if  it'd  burst,  and  the  pain  in  my  heart  is  fright 
ful.  I'm  afraid  I  oughtn't  to  have  eaten." 

"  Oh,  you'd  have  been  much  worse  if  you  hadn't, 
ma'am.  Taking  a  little  nourishing  food  could  never  do 
a  body  any  harm." 

"  Dr.  Schulze  says  food's  poison  when  the  system 
isn't  in  condition  to  receive  it." 

"  I'm  surprised  at  your  paying  attention  to  that 
crank,"  said  Katy.  "  And  he's  an  atheist,  too." 

"  I  feel — dreadful !  "  moaned  Sophy.  "  But  it  can't 
be  the  breakfast,  for  my  digestion  is  all  right.  No,  it's 
all  my — my  worries.  Let  me  have  the  hand  glass." 

"  I'll  pull  down  the  shades  and  put  hot  water  on 
your  head,"  pleaded  the  maid. 

"  The  glass  first,"  insisted  Sophy. 

Katy  went  into  the  dressing  room  for  it — most  re 
luctantly,  as  her  mistress  was  looking  her  worst.  But 
Katy  was  reckoning  without  the  partiality  of  the  hu- 
{  man  glance  when  it  is  bent  upon  the  features  that  are 
the  dearest  and  most  attractive  in  all  the  world.  In 
stead  of  dropping  the  glass  in  horror  Sophy  gazed 
long  and  earnestly.  "  I  do  look  bad,  don't  I  ? " 
said  she,  in  the  tone  that  invites  contradiction.  But 
Katy  was  silent.  "  Still,  I'm  showing  that  I'm  not 
well,"  continued  Sophy.  "  And  what  wonder  that  I 
ain't." 

64 


MY   LIFE'S    OVER 


"  Yes,  indeed — with  all  the  work  and  worry  you  have, 

'am." 

Sophy  sighed.  "  You  don't  know  half — not  half," 
she  said  with  gloomy  mystery.  "  I'm  afraid  I'll  have 
to  go  to  old  Schulze.  I'm  a  little  yellow,  and  a  little 
bit  flabby."  Not  very  flabby;  she  could  find  nothing^ 
to  criticise  in  the  broad  expanse  of  her  neck.  "  And  my ' 
skin,"  thought  she,  "  is  as  smooth  as  it  always  was.  No 
body  ever  did  have  such  a  skin."  Still,  a  tonic  would  do 
her  good ;  then,  she'd  not  take  such  an  absurdly  gloomy 
view  of  Charles's  silly  attempt  to  defy  nature  and  con 
ventionality  by  trying  to  go  back  to  youth.  "  Yes,  I 
must  see  Dr.  Schulze  if  I  don't  feel  better  in  a  day  or 
two." 

To  Katy  she  said,  "  Take  the  glass  away  and  bring 
the  hot  water.  I'll  not  get  up  till  I  feel  better.  I  think  I'm 
having  a  chill — and  my  head — "  She  sank  back  with  a 
groan —  "  Oh,  Katy,  how  I  am  suffering !  I'm  sure  I 
oughtn't  to  have  eaten  those  sausages.  Why  did  you 
bring  three?  I  told  you  not  to.  Not  a  word !  You  know 
you've  done  wrong.  Get  the  hot  water — and  I'll  take 
one  of  those  headache  powders.  Is  there  a  capsicum 
plaster  in  the  house?  If  not,  send  somebody  for  one. 
No,  get  two.  They  come  two  for  a  quarter.  No  matter 
how  sick  I  am  I  never  neglect  things." 

She  felt — when  the  headache  was  quieted  somewhat 
by  the  powder — she  felt  that,  in  a  way,  this  illness  was 
not  inopportune.  She  could  put  it  to  use  in  bringing 
round  her  wayward  husband.  With  Charley,  and  Blag- 
den,  his  former  chief  secretary,  whom  he  had  retained 
as  private  secretary,  he  was  about  to  go  away  on  a  shoot 
ing  trip ;  her  time  was  short.  Tears  he  could  withstand, 
as  she  had  learned  early  in  their  married  life.  Re 
proaches  and  entreaties  had  no  effect,  so  far  as  she  had 

65 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

ever  been  able  to  discover.  But  before  illness  he  was 
always  soft.  She  waited  in  confidence,  not  leaving  her 
bedroom,  scarcely  leaving  the  bed,  neglecting  her  toilet 
even  more  than  usual — and  her  habits  were  those  of  the 
period  preceding  the  gospel  of  the  daily  bath,  the  time 
when  people  regarded  much  attention  to  the  intimate 
toilet  as  certainly  unnecessary,  probably  sinful,  and 
were  disposed  to  interpret  personal  cleanness  as  a  clean 
face  and  hands  and  regularity  at  church,  and  good 
housekeeping  as  a  clean  parlor  and  front  stoop  and 
everybody  at  family  prayers  before  breakfast. 

He  suspected  fraud  in  this  illness;  besides,  he  felt 
he  had  no  responsibility  in  it.  Still,  he  was  gradually 
wrought  upon  by  her  abject  appearance,  the  softening 
process  being  greatly  aided  by  certain  deep-down  qualms 
of  self-reproach  for  errant  thoughts,  for  private  criti 
cisms  of  her  appearance  and  mentality  and  inertia,  criti 
cisms  the  more  unkind  because  true.  Also,  as  she  had 
been  insisting  on  his  occupying  the  same  bed  and  sleep 
ing,  if  it  could  be  called  sleeping,  with  the  bedroom 
windows  down,  he  was  feeling  none  too  well  himself. 
When  she  began  to  take  on  that  mortal  look  which 
makes  so  ghastly  the  faces  of  the  fat  though  they  be 
but  indisposed  and  for  only  a  few  days,  he  felt  guilty, 
remorseful. 

On  the  sixth  morning,  soon  after  she  had  had  Katy 
prop  her  up  and  bring  breakfast,  he  braved  again  the 
close  air,  the  stale,  nauseating  odors  of  their  bedroom 
from  which  he  had  hastened  at  daybreak.  "  Have  you 
had  the  doctor?  "  he  asked  abruptly,  his  tone  a  shallow 
pretense  of  gruffness,  his  eyes  full  of  pity  and  pain. 

She  turned  her  face  away  to  conceal  her  satisfaction. 
She  shook  her  head  and  sighed. 

"  You  must  see  Schulze." 
66 


MY   LIFE'S   OVER 


"  What  does  it  matter?  "  she  muttered.  "  Nobody 
cares  whether  I  live  or  die.  My  life's  over." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  he,  seating  himself  on  the  bed 
and  laying  his  hand  upon  hers,  the  more  tenderly  because 
touching  her  thus  brought  to  him  vividly  the  contrast 
ing  memory  of  a  time  when  the  sense  of  her  would  have 
made  the  blood  leap  in  his  veins.  "  Nonsense — Sophy !  " 
He  happened  to  glance  down  at  her  hand — a  naturally 
beautiful  hand  it  was — soft  yet  firm,  slender,  delicately 
shaped  in  palm  and  in  fingers.  And  the  nails  were  thin 
and  pink  and  convex.  But  she  had  let  the  dead  flesh 
grow  raggedly  up  round  the  base  of  the  nails,  and  under 
the  rims  they  were  far,  far  from  clean.  He  did  not  drop 
her  hand  immediately;  but  he  did  immediately  look 
away. 

"  A  woman  had  better  die  when  the  bloom  of  her 
youth  is  gone,"  she  continued  mournfully.  She  glanced 
at  him ;  so  low  in  mind  was  she  that  for  once  his  look 
of  vigorous  young  manhood,  his  cleanness  and  fresh 
ness,  the  attractive  way  he  was  dressed,  did  not  rouse 
her  anger  and  hatred,  but  a  dreary,  resigned  hope 
lessness.  "  Men  care  only  for  freshness,"  moaned 
she.  "  Gratitude  and  duty  and  respect  are  only  words 
to  them." 

Bloom  of  youth!  His  eyes  shifted  from  her  di 
sheveled,  repellant  homeliness.  As  he  had  imagination, 
his  heart  ached  with  pity.  "  Sophy,"  he  said  earnestly, 
"  it's  your  illness  that  makes  you  think  these  things. 
Get  well,  and  you'll  be  all  right  again.  I'll  call  Schulze 
on  the  'phone." 

Her  silence  was  assent;  she  herself  was  a  little 
alarmed  about  her  condition,  was  fearing  she  had  gone 
too  far  in  desperate  measures  to  restore  him  to  sense  of 
her  due.  He  went  to  the  telephone  in  the  dressing  room, 

67 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

presently  to  return  with :  "  Schulze  wants  to  know 
whether  you've  had  any  breakfast." 

"  No,"  replied  she,  adding  reproachfully,  "  how 
could  I,  sick  as  I  am?  I  just  forced  down  some  oatmeal 
and  cream  and  a  cup  of  coffee." 

Murdock  was  gone  longer.  When  he  reappeared,  he 
said  indignantly :  "  He  won't  come.  He  says  you  must 
come  to  him." 

Her  eyes  flashed  and  she  sat  up  in  bed  energetically. 
"  Why  didn't  you  tell  him  how  ill  I  was?  " 

"  I  told  him  you  couldn't  raise  your  head  off  the 
pillow."  Sophy  hastily  sank  back.  "  Then,"  continued 
Murdock,  in  spite  of  himself  less  indignantly,  "  when 
I  told  him  what  you  said  about  breakfast,  he  said :  '  If 
that  didn't  kill  her,  it  won't  hurt  her  to  come  to  me,' 
and  he  rang  off.  And  when  I  got  his  office  again  his 
daughter  said  he  was  too  busy  to  come  to  the  'phone." 

Mrs.  Murdock's  eyes  were  sparkling.  The  appalling 
yellowish  pallor  of  her  skin  was  overlaid  with  the  red 
of  anger.  "  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  we're  at  the  mercy 
of  that  brute !  "  she  cried.  "  If  he  wasn't  such  a  won 
derful  doctor  he'd  have  been  white-capped  long  ago — 
tarred  and  feathered  and  railed  out  of  town.  Here,  I 
may  be  dying  for  all  he  knows,  and  he  refuses  to  come !  " 

"  It's  useless  to  offer  him  an  extra  fee." 

"  Worse  than  useless,"  retorted  she.  "  He'd  prob 
ably  refuse  to  treat  me  at  all." 

"  We  can  get  another  doctor.  There's  his  daughter, 
young  Mrs.  Ranger." 

Sophy  did  not  let  slip  the  opportunity  to  discharge 
her  anger  upon  some  one  less  distant  and  less  secure  than 
Schulze.  "What  do  you  take  me  for?  Do  you  think 
I'd  let  a  woman  touch  me?  The  women,  the  good-look 
ing  ones,  can  fool  you  men.  But  7  know  women.  They; 

68 


MY   LIFE'S   OVER" 


can't  learn  anything."  She  collapsed  into  sullen  tears. 
"  No,  I'll  risk  my  life  and  dress  and  go  to  him.  The 
brute!" 

By  this  time  Murdock  was  seeing  that  her  illness 
could  not  be  so  serious  as  he  had  imagined.  "  I  guess 
there's  nothing  else  to  be  done,"  said  he,  concealing  his 
suspicion  under  a  discreet  appearance  of  deep  sympathy. 
He  noted  the  overpowering  air  of  the  room.  "  It'll 
certainly  do  her  good  to  get  any  sort  of  a  change  from 
this  air,"  he  reflected.  And  he  left  her,  to  go  to  his 
affairs  downtown,  in  a  chastened  but  no  longer  humble 
mood ;  indeed,  he  felt  somewhat  foolish  about  the  exag 
geration  of  remorse  that  had  dominated  him  a  few  mo 
ments  before.  "  If  she'd  only  eat  less  and  stir  about  a 
little,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  First  thing  she  knows  she'll 
be  really  sick.  Her  timidity  about  fresh  water  and 
fresh  air  is  beginning  to  get  on  my  nerves."  But  there 
he  halted  his  dangerously  frank  thoughts;  instinct 
warned  him  that  in  that  direction  lay  truths  he  must  not 
face. 


SOPHY    SEEKS    A    CONFESSOR 

IN  the  course  of  an  hour  Sophy,  groaning  at  every 
step  but  carefully  dressed  even  to  the  cruelly  tight  stays 
wherewith  she  deemed  it  expedient  in  public  to  restrain 
her  amplitude,  descended  to  her  victoria,  to  be  driven 
to  Dr.  Schulze's  trim  little  house  with  its  gay  German 
garden  in  front  and  at  the  side. 

She  made  an  astonishingly  good  appearance  as 
she  sat  in  her  carriage  in  state,  and  as  she  swept 
into  the  sanitarily  bare  offices.  But  Sophy  was  al 
ways  careful  of  appearances.  None  but  her  own  fam 
ily,  the  servants  and,  occasionally  by  accident  one 
of  the  tradespeople,  ever  saw  her  as  she  was.  She  took 
the  only  vacant  chair  in  the  long  line  ranged  against  the 
wall  of  the  waiting  room ;  she  noted  that,  save  herself, 
the  most  important  person  in  that  motley  assembly  was 
a  small  grocer.  "  If  I  hadn't  given  him  a  piece  of  my 
mind  and  ordered  him  off  the  place,"  she  thought,  eying 
him  severely,  "  he'd  offer  me  his  turn.  As  it  is,  I've  got 
to  wait.  What  an  outrage !  "  But  she  knew  she  could 
only  let  her  fury  consume  itself  and  vanish  in  its  own 
steam;  one  of  Schulze's  many  coarse  notions  was  that 
disease  and  pain  were  no  more  severe  and  no  more  im 
portant  in  one  kind  of  human  being  than  in  another. 
Indeed  he  would  admit  only  two  human  estates — "  sick- 

70 


SOPHY   SEEKS   A   CONFESSOR 

ness  and  health.  The  rest  is  either  poppycock  or  tom- 
myrot  or  both." 

Like  every  man  of  will  and  intellect  who  does  not 
have  to  conciliate  his  fellow-citizens  in  order  to  make  a 
living,  he  was  positive  in  speech  and  in  action,  was  simple 
and  direct.  He  traced  all  human  ills,  mental,  physical, 
moral,  economic,  political,  to  the  poor  health  of  the  over 
whelming1  mass  of  the  human  race ;  he  therefore  revered 
his  profession  as  above  all  the  others.  But,  for  that 
profession  as  usually  practiced  and  for  most  of  its  prac 
titioners,  he  had  profound  contempt. 

"  A  tough  race !  A  tough  race ! "  he  used  to  say. 
"  It  has  been  preyed  upon  by  the  priests  and  the  doctors 
from  the  beginning — mind  and  body.  Yet  it  survives 
and  has  even  here  and  there  made  some  slight  progress." 
And  again :  "  Medicine  is  like  all  the  other  professions. 
It  advances  only  by  compulsion  from  without.  The 
average  doctor  resists  a  new  truth  about  health  and 
disease,  partly  because  it  is  an  insult  to  his  pretense  of 
already  knowing  all,  but  chiefly  because  it  forces  him 
to  do  some  thinking."  To  Schulze  the  usual  doctor 
seemed  the  exact  synonym  for  pretentious  ignorance. 
"  Nothing  is  simpler  than  the  science  of  health,"  he 
would  say.  "  It  consists  in  regularity,  fresh  air,  simple 
food  in  small  quantities,  plenty  of  exercise.  Dosing  is 
simply  an  attempt  to  cure  one  disease  by  setting  up 
another  that  may  be  slower,  but  is  usually  none  the  less 
deadly."  And  again :  "  Nothing  better  illustrates  the 
ignorance  and  the  depravity  of  the  medical  profession 
than  the  fact  that,  although  all  disease  originates  in 
disorder  in  the  digestive  apparatus,  a  doctor's  first  move 
is  to  make  his  wretched  victim  swallow  a  drug  that 
will  upset  the  stomach."  And  again :  "  The  human 
body  isn't  a  mystery;  it's  a  machine.  The  mystery; 

71 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

is  how  it  withstands  the  abuse  of  its  owner  and  his 
doctor." 

The  first  twenty  years  of  his  career  had  been  years 
of  humiliation  and  poverty  because  he  scorned  to  practice 
his  profession  as  the  "  black  art."  The  doctor  who  mys 
tifies  with  hocus-pocus  and  "  cures  "  with  something  to 
take  two  or  three  times  a  day  in  a  spoon,  or  as  a  pill, 
appeals  at  once  to  the  credulity  and  to  the  laziness  of 
his  patient,  like  the  priest  who  sells  indulgences.  But 
the  doctor  who  shows  his  patient  that  disease  isn't  a 
visitation  of  Providence  or  bad  luck,  but  is  the  patient's 
own  mortal  assaults  upon  his  own  health  through  eating, 
drinking  and  irregularity,  and  who  orders  as  medicine  a 
sane  and  temperate  mode  of  life,  with  all  the  "  good 
things  "  cut  off — such  a  doctor  seems  a  poor  creature,  a 
crank,  to  the  average  laymen,  and  to  the  average 
"  learned  practitioner."  However,  Schulze  began  by 
getting  as  patients  those  who  "  could  not  afford  a  better 
doctor,"  performed  miracles  of  cure,  gradually  made  his 
way  against  Saint  X's  passion  for  pretense  and  pref 
erence  for  the  darkness  of  hocus-pocus  rather  than  the 
light  of  unpretending  common  sense.  The  theory  in 
Saint  X  was  that  his  years  of  fierce  struggle  had  em 
bittered  him;  in  fact,  he  was  not  bitter  at  all,  simply 
uncompromising  and  using  a  gruff  manner  to  protect  his 
temper  and  his  time  against  his  patients.  The  attitude 
of  most  laymen  toward  the  physician  is  precisely  that 
of  the  people  of  the  Middle  Ages  toward  their  priest — 
a  notion  that  if  they  can  wheedle  him  into  giving  them 
easy  penance  they  will  be  saved  just  as  securely  as  if 
they  repented  and  reformed.  Schulze  would  have  none 
of  this. 

Mrs.  Murdock  had  to  wait  full  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  before  her  turn  came.  Instead  of  a  servant  to  intro- 

72 


SOPHY  SEEKS   A    CONFESSOR 

duce  his  patients,  Schulze  had  upon  the  door  between 
office  and  waiting  room  a  card  which  read,  "  When  the 
lock  clicks,  the  next  in  line  will  please  enter."  The 
spring  attachment  on  the  lock  was  worked  from  his  desk. 
At  the  click  Mrs.  Murdock,  the  last  in  the  waiting  room, 
rustled  and  groaned  into  the  presence  of  the  ugly  little 
man  with  the  scarlet  button  of  a  nose  and  the  eyes  that 
were  wondrous  keen  and  kind.  He  was  at  his  desk  facing 
the  door ;  a  huge  Oriental  image,  its  face  a  ludicrous 
yet  somehow  awe-inspiring  caricature  of  his  own, 
squatted  on  a  pedestal  behind  him.  The  light  from  the 
windows  fell  full  upon  the  chair  opposite  him,  which 
was  obviously  for  the  patient. 

"  So  you  managed  to  get  here  alive,"  he  began,  his 
tone  and  manner  so  sarcastic  and  so  formidable  that 
Sophy's  great  desire  to  rage  at  him  vanished  in  a  greater 
desire  to  conciliate  him.  Schulze  applied  to  human  na 
ture  the  principle  of  physics  that  the  way  to  overcome  a 
force  is  to  meet  it  with  a  stronger  force  from  the  opposite 
direction. 

"  And  that's  about  all,"  replied  she  piteously.  "  I've 
been  ill  for  the  past  six  weeks.  There's  a  pain  in 
my " 

"  Put  out  your  tongue,"  he  interrupted. 

She  put  it  out.  Having  thus  at  a  stroke  reduced 
her  to  compulsory  and  undignified  silence,  he  with  delib 
eration  set  his  glasses  on  the  tip  of  his  buttonlike  nose, 
threw  his  head  back  and,  without  moving  nearer  her,  in 
spected  the  tongue.  "  Frightful,"  he  said.  "  Frightful. 
Hide  it!" 

She  drew  her  tongue  in.  "  I  don't  wonder,"  she  be 
gan  again,  "  when  I  think  of  the  pain " 

"  Stop !  "  commanded  the  old  man  sharply.     "  The 
last  time  you  were  here,  what  did  I  prescribe?  " 
6  73 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Sophy  looked  miserable.  "  Two  meals  a  day,"  she 
replied  feebly. 

"What  kind  of  meals?" 

"  You  said  simple  meals." 

"I  did.     And  what  else?" 

"  I  believe  you  recommended  a  walk." 

"  I  prescribed  a  walk — a  five-mile  walk  daily,  rain, 
snow,  or  shine." 

"  Yes — that  was  it,  doctor,"  said  Sophy  humbly. 

"Well?" 

"  I— I— did  it." 

"  Until  you  felt  all  right  again." 

"  My  appetite  came  back." 

"  Um — um,"  he  exclaimed  contemptuously.  "  And 
the  walk?" 

"  I  take  a  drive  almost  every  day." 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  while  we're  all  moving  toward 
death,  those  who  walked  there  arrived  long  after  those 
who  drove?  " 

"  You  told  me  not  to  drive,  if  I  could  help  it.  But — 
doctor,  it's  impossible  for  a  woman  of  my  physique " 

"  And  what  are  you  doing  with  such  a  physique?  " 
demanded  he.  "  In  Strasburg  where  I  was  born  the 
people  live  by  nailing  the  feet  of  geese  to  the  floor  and 
stuffing  them  till  their  livers  get  fat.  You  treat  your 
self  as  those  Strasburgers  treat  their  geese.  Didn't  I 
tell  you  that  fat  was  a  disease?  Didn't  I  warn  you 
that  if  you  let  that  disease  run  a  few  years  longer,  you'd 
be  a  shapeless  mass  before  you  were  forty  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  about  that,  too,"  she  said  has 
tily.  She  colored.  "  I  suppose  you  think  I'm  vain  and 
set  on  foolishness  that  doesn't  belong  to  my  time  of 
life " 

"Nonsense!"  he  interjected.  "You're  a  young 
74 


SOPHY   SEEKS   A    CONFESSOR 

woman.  You've  been  letting  yourself  go  to  rack  and 
ruin.  That's  the  way  with  human  beings.  Give  them 
a  chance  at  luxury,  and  they  act  like  a  cow  in  a  corn 
patch.  There's  no  excuse  for  you.  If  you  hadn't  a 
magnificent  constitution,  you'd  be  dead.  You — most 
of  the  women  of  your  class — are  a  disgrace.  Never 
exercising,  always  ailing — tossed  up  in  bed  much  of 
the  time — taking  on  fat." 

"  Now,  doctor!  "  she  pleaded.  "  You're  unjust.  It 
runs  in  our  family  to  lose  our  looks  and  get  fat 
young." 

"  Then  it  runs  in  your  family  to  lazy  about  and 
eat  enough  at  each  meal  to  choke  them  up  for  a  week. 
It  runs  in  families  to  be  ignorant,  madam,  unless  they 
go  to  school.  It  runs  in  families  to  be  dishonest,  un 
less  they  learn  to  make  a  living  by  honest  work.  It 
runs  in  families  to " 

"  Well,  anyhow,"  she  interrupted  sullenly,  "  I  want 
to  get  thin — or,  at  least,  thinner." 

"  One  sensible  meal  a  day,  and  a  ten-mile  walk — 
regularly." 

"  But  I  want  to  get  thinner  right  away.  I  must — 
must !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  It  can't  be  done." 

"  I  know  there's  some  medicine  I  could  take " 

"  I'm  a  healer,  not  a  murderer.  Any  medicine  you 
took  to  make  you  thin  would  shorten  your  life." 

Sophy  began  to  sob.  "  I  don't  care  if  it  does,"  she 
cried  hysterically.  "  I  can't  live  on,  this  way — I — I 
I'm  losing  my  husband.  He's  trying  to  pretend  he's 
a  young  man  and  is  looking  about.  He  don't  admire 
stout  women — I  always  knew  it,  but  I  couldn't  help 
being  stout.  Besides,  it's  his  duty  to  love  me,  his 
wedded  wife,  the  mother  of  his  children." 

75 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  One  meal  a  day ;  ten  miles  regularly." 

"Yes — yes — I'll  even  do  that," cried  she.  "Oh,  my 
God,  doctor !  You  don't  know  how  I'm  suffering.  Not 
the  physical  pain — that's  nothing.  But  can't  you 
appreciate  the  misery,  the  heartache?  What  fiends 
men  are!  He  took  the  best  of  my  life,  my  beauty  and 
my  youth.  And  now  he  wants  to  cast  me  off.  Yes, 
I  know  he  does.  Haven't  I  seen  how  the  good  women 
are  treated  by  their  husbands.  How  coarse  and  low 
married  life  is !  A  girl  thinks  it's  romance.  She  thinks 
love  means  something  above  mere  physical  passion. 
Yet  it's  nothing  but  that — at  least,  the  love  of  man 
is  nothing  but  that.  He  never  cared  anything  for  me 
except  for  my  looks " 

Schulze  held  up  his  stubby  finger.  "  Listen  to  me, 
madam,"  he  said.  "  Suppose  you  wanted  a  loaf  of 
bread.  Suppose  you  saw  a  lot  of  loaves  in  a  bakeshop 
window.  You'd  take  the  one  that  looked  best,  wouldn't 
you?" 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  Are  you  listening  ?  "  he  demanded  severely. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  gathering  herself  together. 

"Wouldn't  you?" 

"  Yes,"  she  muttered. 

"  That's  it !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  A  man  wants  a  wife. 
He  takes  the  girl  that  looks  the  best  to  him.  Why 
not?  That's  not  coarse  and  low;  it's  sensible.  It's 
the  wisdom  of  instinct.  The  girl  with  the  clear  eyes 
and  skin,  the  girl  with  the  form  that  comes  nearest 
the  ideal  of  health  and  strength  and  a  capacity  for 
maternity.  Sound  hearts  and  sound  minds  live  •  in 
sound  bodies.  Well!  Now,  suppose  when  he  gets  his 
loaf  home  he  finds  it's  not  good  bread,  finds  that  the 

brown,  crisp  surface  was  merely  a  trick,  a  snare " 

76 


SOPHY  SEEKS   A    CONFESSOR 

"  But  I've  been  a  good  wife  to  him.  I've  made  him 
a  home " 

"  You've  made  yourself  a  home,"  said  Schulze  im 
patiently.  "  Don't  cant,  madam — at  least  not  to  me. 
You've  come  to  me  to  get  well,  not  to  pose.  You  your 
self  had  to  live  somehow  and  somewhere,  didn't  you? 
You  might  as  well  put  in  a  claim  for  his  gratitude  be 
cause  you  keep  alive  and  don't  starve  yourself  to  death. 
The  point  is,  what  have  you  done  for  him  ?  " 

"  I  was  a  wife  to  him  " — her  eyes  dropped — "  as 
long  as — as  he  seemed  to  wish  me  to  be." 

"  But  when  your  looks  began  to  go — what  ap 
pealed  to  him  in  your  looks — then —  Yes,  I  under 
stand.  You  were  a  wife  to  him  for  a  while,  and  you 
deserve  no  credit.  He  was,  no  doubt,  an  equally  good 
husband.  And  then  you  got  lazy  and  indolent —  I 
needn't  go  into  that.  What  next?  " 

"  The  children — "  she  ventured  hesitatingly. 

"  Oh — yes — the  children  !  You  didn't  want  them, 
I  suppose?" 

She  was  silent. 

"  He  didn't  insist  on  it?  " 

Silence. 

"  No  claim  on  him  there,  then." 

"  But  I've  been  a  good  mother " 

"  You  mean  you've  superintended  the  mothers  you 
hired  for  them.  No  cant,  please.  Let's  get  to  the  bot 
tom  of  this.  Have  you  been  a  companion  to  him  in 
any  way  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  my  fault  that  I'm  not  clever,"  she  urged. 
"  He  didn't  marry  me  for  brains,  anyhow.  A  man 
never  does." 

"  Of  course  not.  But  there's  something  between 
a  blue  stocking  and  a  blockhead  isn't  there?  And  if 

77 


O.LD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

you're  stupid,  whose  fault  is  it  but  yours?  Lazy, 
madam,  lazy!  You  took  him  for  granted.  It's  lucky 
for  you  that,  when  it  came  to  paying  the  bills,  he 
didn't  take  it  for  granted  they'd  be  paid  somehow." 

"  But  I've  toiled  and  slaved " 

Schulze  halted  her  with  that  irritating  finger. 
"  You've  always  had  servants.  Your  physical  condi 
tion  shows  you've  done  nothing — practically  nothing. 
When  your  husband  had  all  the  real  work  and  worry, 
how  comes  it  that  he's  still  young,  and  you're — " 
He  waved  his  hand  toward  her  as  if  she  were  an  exhibit. 

"  You  don't  understand,"  she  cried  angrily.  She 
would  have  stormed  out  of  the  office,  but  she  felt  she 
must  discuss  her  affairs  with  some  one — and  who  else 
was  there — who  else  that  would  not  betray  her,  gos 
sip  about  her  ?  "  You  put  everything  on  a  low  plane," 
she  went  on.  "  You  don't  make  any  allowances  for  the 
sacred  relationship  of  husband  and  wife,  of " 

"  Perhaps  if  you'd  made  less  allowances  for  the 
sacred  side  of  life  and  devoted  more  attention  to  the 
practical  side  you'd  not  be  consulting  me.  Now,  tell 
me,  what  have  you  really  done  for  him?  " 

"  But  what  has  he  done  for  me  ?  " 

"  That's  not  the  question.  Let  him  take  care  of 
his  own  virtues  and  sins.  What  we  want  is  to  find  out 
how  you  are  to  get  well.  And  the  first  thing  is  to  find 
the  disease — your  disease,  not  his."  He  rapped  the 
fingers  of  his  right  hand  irritatingly  upon  the  knuckles 
of  his  left  hand.  "Do  you  love  him?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

Her  eyes  dropped.  "  Of  course,"  she  said. 

"  You  mean  you  don't." 

"  I — I  never  did  understand  him  very  well,"  she 
confessed. 

78 


SOPHY   SEEKS  A   CONFESSOR 

"  You  probably  never  thought  much  about  him. 
He  didn't  run  after  other  women,  and  he  brought  the 
money  home  regularly.  So  you  just  forgot  about 
him,  treated  him  as  a  person  to  get  things  from,  not 
to  give  thought  to  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  need  waiting  on.  We've  always  had 
servants." 

"  So  he  didn't  even  get  that ! " 

"  I  did— did— love  him  at  first,"  said  she.  "  But 
after  a  while —  Well,  we  didn't  seem  to  have  much  to 
talk  about,  except  just  the  things  round  the  house. 
And  he  was  busy,  and  I  didn't  know  about  his  busi 
ness." 

"If  you  don't  love  him,  what's  your  objection  to 
losing  him  ?  " 

She  gazed  at  him  in  amazement.  "  Why,  he's  my 
husband !  "  she  exclaimed. 

Schulze  lay  back  in  his  chair  to  laugh.  "  And  what 
the  devil  does  that  mean  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  have  no  respect  for  religion — 
or  anything  sacred,"  retorted  she. 

"  Sacred  be — damned.  Let's  talk  sense.  Is  it 
money  or  just  dog-in-the-manger  vanity?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked  indignantly. 

Sophy  Murdock  had  had  a  moment  of  restlessness 
or  resentment  now  and  then,  as  Dr.  Schulze's  questions 
or  comments  cut  sudden  and  deep  into  some  particu 
larly  sensitive  part  of  her  vanity.  But  she  had  been 
under  the  hypnotic  spell  which  the  strong  and  steady 
intelligence  can  always  throw  over  the  weaker  and 
vacillating.  This  spell  was  the  more  potent  because 
Schulze  was  a  doctor.  Sophy  had  the  usual  feminine 
reverence  for  medical  learning,  and  the  feminine  love 
of  the  confessor,  to  boot.  With  non-Catholic  women 

79 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW* 

the  doctor,  as  a  rule,  supplies  the  universal  longing 
for  a  secure  confidant.  But  her  vanity,  sore  through 
and  through,  began  now  fiercely  to  resent  this  "  in 
sulting  and  heartless  "  attitude  toward  her  woes,  phys 
ical  and  mental. 

"  You  are  no  gentleman,"  she  said  haughtily,  ris 
ing  to  go. 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Schulze.  "  Good  morning, 
madam."  And  click  went  the  spring  lock  of  the  door 
into  the  hall. 

Sophy  lingered — that  sharp  click  of  dismissal 
struck  terror  to  her  heart.  "  I  am  a  sick,  a  very  sick 
woman,"  she  wailed.  "You  have  taken  advantage  of 
my  illness  to  insult  me." 

Schulze,  reading  her  like  an  open  book,  saw  that 
his  medicine  was  taking  effect.  He  gave  her  the  final 
dose :  "  I  don't  minister  to  sick  vanities,  madam,  but 
to  sick  bodies.  I  know  nothing  about  sensitive  souls, 
but  a  great  deal  about  sensitive  stomachs.  Your 
trouble  is  not  in  your  soul  but  in  your  stomach — not 
in  your  heart,  I  may  add,  but  in  your  vanity.  Any 
of  my  colleagues  will  serve  you  far  better  than  I  could. 
You  wish  to  be  coddled,  not  cured." 

Sophy  flung  pride  and  pretense  to  the  winds.  She 
sank  upon  a  chair,  clasped  her  hands,  and  with  stream 
ing  eyes  cried :  "  For  God's  sake,  doctor,  have  mercy 
on  me!  I  don't  trust  any  of  'em  but  you.  Say  what 
you  please.  Only  tell  me  how  I  can  make  myself  at 
tractive  to  my  husband." 

Her  voice,  naturally  sweet  and  deliciously  clear, 
could  be  very  moving.  It  was  moving  now — and  her 
soft,  azure  eyes,  too.  Schulze's  tender  heart  responded 
to  her  sincerity.  But  he  knew  it  would  be  fatal  to  let 
her  see  how  she  had  touched  him.  With  face  very  rosy, 

80 


SOPHY   SEEKS   A    CONFESSOR 

and  eyes  blinking,  he  gained  time  by  rising  to  close 
the  door  of  exit. 

"  I  know  I  don't  love  my  husband,"  she  sobbed. 
"  How  can  you  love  anybody  you  don't  understand  and 
feel  at  home  with?  I'm  not  interested  in  what  he  talks 
about,  and  he  don't  listen  when  I  talk.  I  don't  even 
love  my  children  as  I  used  to,  since  they've  grown  up 
and  got  so  much  smarter  than  me.  But  I'm  proud 
of  him,  and  it'd  kill  me  to  lose  him  to  some  other 
woman.  .  .  .  Don't  you  think  I've  got  any  rights  over 
him  at  all?" 

"  It's  hardly  a  question  of  your  rights,"  replied 
Schulze,  his  voice  hoarse  and  uncertain.  "  That's 
something  for  the  courts.  It's  a  question  of  what  you 
can  make  him  glad  and  eager  to  give  you." 

"  That's  it,  that's  it !  "  she  assented.  "  I'll  do  any 
thing  you  say." 

He  looked  at  her  pityingly,  dubiously.  "  You'll 
have  to  change  your  whole  course  of  life.  You  and 
your  husband  have  reached  the  perilous  period  of  mar 
ried  life  among  the  well-to-do.  Things  aren't  as  they 
used  to  be — the  husband  and  wife  working  together, 
growing  old  together,  sinking  together  into  the  stu 
por  of  old  age  when  they  ought  still  to  be  young. 
Now,  one  or  the  other  is  sure  to  keep  alive,  and  the 
f  one  that  dies  must  inevitably  be  sloughed  off."  He 
was  soliloquizing,  unmindful  of  her  presence.  "  When 
it  is  the  woman  that  stays  alive,  the  tragedy  usually 
ends — or  takes  on  another,  a  more  acute  phase — in  the 
divorce  ,  court.  When  it's  the  man,  we  don't  know 
about  the  tragedy  so  often — men  are  more  merciful 
to  women  than  women  to  men.  In  fact,  mercy  isn't  a 
feminine  quality.  Nature  made  their  nerves  less  sen 
sitive  than  men's,  because  they  are  the  childbearers ;  so, 

81 


OLD   WIVES   FOB   NEW 

they  are  naturally  less  sensitive  about  giving  pain." 
He  noted  Sophy  again.  "  But —  In  your  case — " 
He  paused,  reflecting. 

"  I'll  do  anything  you  say — anything !  "  she  re 
peated. 

"  I  doubt  it— frankly,"  said  he.  "  But  I'll  tell  you 
what  to  do.  Rouse  yourself.  Take  an  interest  in 
things — in  helping  those  about  you.  Make  your  house 
your  own,  instead  of  a  mere  hotel  with  your  house 
keeper  as  manager.  See  that  your  husband  is  fed  and 
clothed  and  made  comfortable  to  the  smallest  detail. 
See  to  it  that  there's  a  reason  beside  pious  flapdoodle — 
a  real  reason  why  your  husband  should  prefer  to  keep 
on  with  you.  Make  it  unnecessary  for  him  to  sup 
plement  you  with  mistresses.  Make  it  absurd  for  him 
to  think  of  replacing  you  and  trying  again  for  com 
fort  and  companionship  and  love." 

Sophy  was  speechless  with  terror  at  these  plain 
statements  of  her  impending  peril. 

"  You're  a  young  woman,"  Schulze  went  on.  "  You 
are  still  intact,  despite  your  efforts  to  ruin  your  health 
and  looks.  Behave  yourself,  and  you'll  soon  be  all 
right.  Stop  stuffing  yourself.  How  can  your  brain 
work  when  it's  steeped  in  the  gases  of  undigested  food  ? 
How  can  your  body  be  active  and  beautiful  when  it's 
staggering  and  sagging  under  the  load  of  rubbish  you 
thrust  into  it  three  times  a  day — with  often  a  fourth 
meal  at  night  when  the  gnawing  of  ptomaines  makes 
you  have  the  sensation  of  hunger?  " 

"  That's  getting  to  be  my  besetting  sin — my  ap 
petite,"  moaned  Sophy. 

"  If  you  had  cared  as  much  for  your  husband's 
love  as  you've  cared  for  pies  and  cake  and  candy,  you'd 
not  be  sitting  there,  weeping  over  your  sorrows.  Will 

82 


SOPHY   SEEKS   "A    CONFESSOR 

the  human  race  never  learn  that  its  emotions  are  not 
in  its  soul,  but  in  its  body?  I  suppose  not,  as  long 
as  the  priests  and  the  poets  and  the  romancers  can 
make  a  living  by  flattering  it  about  its  heart  and  its 
soul,  and  appealing  to  its  pretenses  instead  of  to  its 
common  sense." 

"  Just  write  down,  won't  you,  please,  exactly  what 
— and  how  much — and  when — I  must  eat,  in  order  to 
get  thin." 

"  I'll  send  you  a  bill  of  fare  by  to-night's  mail. 
Don't  hump  down  in  a  chair  after  meals.  Stand  and 
walk  about  for  half  an  hour  to  an  hour.  Then,  there's 
the  exercise.  Ten  miles  a  day — ten  real  miles,  every 
day,  at  the  same  hour." 

"  But  I  can't  begin  with  ten  miles,"  she  pleaded. 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.  Three  miles  the  first  week, 
five  the  second,  ten  the  third.  If  your  husband  had 
taken  as  poor  care  of  his  property — if  your  maid  took 
as  poor  care  of  your  dresses,  as  you've  taken  of  your 
good  looks " 

"  And  you  guarantee  a  cure  ?  You  know  my  heart 
is  not  strong." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind.  You  haven't  yet 
quite  suffocated  your  heart  with  fat.  Heart  disease !  " 
Schulze  snorted.  "  Not  one  person  in  a  million  lives 
beyond  childhood  if  born  with  a  weak  heart.  Yet  these 
fool  doctors  give  medicine  for  '  heart  disease '  and, 
when  people  die,  ascribe  it  to  heart  failure.  The  phys 
ical  heart  gives  as  little  trouble  as  the  other  one,  if 
the  digestive  apparatus  is  right.  Do  you  know  that 
practically  all  the  insanity  and  absolutely  all  the  sui 
cides — and  the  murders — and  other  acts  of  violence, 
too,  for  that  matter — are  directly  due  to  stomach 
or  intestinal  trouble?  Disposition  is  digestion — and 

83 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

where  the  stomach  is  all  right  and  the  disposition  all 
wrong,  then  the  trouble  is  in  the  intestines — not  in 
the  soul,  dear  lady.  Yes,  I'll  guarantee  to  thin  you 
down — if  you  follow  my  advice  exactly  for  one  year." 

So  well  had  his  unpalatable  but  powerful  nerve 
tonic  acted  upon  her  that  she  already  felt  better,  on 
the  way  to  cure.  "  I'll  follow  your  advice,  never  fear," 
she  said,  cheerful  and  grateful.  "  Doctor,  you  have 
raised  me  from  the  dead." 

"  I've  told  you  how  to  raise  yourself  from  the 
dead,"  he  replied. 

"  And  I've  got  sense  enough  to  see  it." 

"  You'd  be  in  an  asylum  if  you  hadn't.  The  trou 
ble  with  us  isn't  lack  of  sense — it's  lack  of  persistence." 
He  stood,  shook  his  head  and  his  forefinger  at  her 
half  severely,  half  humorously.  "  Now,  don't  you 
come  back  here  again!  I've  told  you  what  to  do.  If 
you  don't  do  it,  I  don't  want  to  see  you.  If  you  do, 
I'll  discover  it  as  I  catch  sight  of  you  now  and  then 
in  the  street.  But,  I've  got  no  time  to  waste  on  any 
body.  I'm  seventy,  and  I  can't  reasonably  count  on 
more  than  twenty  years  of  active  life." 

"  Seventy !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  And  do  you  expect 
to  be  alive  at  ninety  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be,  accidents  barred.  And  at  work.  Ac 
tion  is  the  essence  of  life.  To  rest  is  to  rust  and  rot." 

But  she  was  not  listening.  "  I've  got  two  months," 
said  she.  "  He's  taking  Charley  away  to  hunt  in  the 
Northwest.  I  can  do  a  great  deal  in  two  months, 
can't  I?" 

"  Wonders — wonders,"  replied  Schulze.  "  If — if 
— if  I" 

He  clicked  the  lock  of  the  hall  door  loudly ;  she  took 
the  hint,  glad  to  escape,  but  gladder  that  she  had  come. 

84 


SOPHY   SEEKS   A    CONFESSOR 

Instead  of  hastening  to  change  his  clothes  for  his  lab 
oratory  work,  he  paused  at  the  window,  watching  her 
enter  her  carriage  and  drive  away.  "  Now,  there's  a 
case  in  point,"  said  he  aloud,  addressing  his  hideous 
familiar,  the  Oriental  image.  "  These  stupid,  unthink 
ing  writers,  pandering  to  the  stupid,  unthinking  pub 
lic!  Plays  and  novels  and  poems  about  the  petty, 
unreal,  essentially  ridiculous  violations  of  man's  silly 
little  conventionalities  of  law  and  morals,  when  the  real 
6  strong  situations,'  the  real  tragedies  all  center  about 
the  immutable  laws  of  the  universe.  He  that  sins 
against  conventional  morals  can  laugh,  if  he  is  strong 
enough  to  shrug  at  public  opinion.  But,  health — that 
determines  life  and  happiness  and  love  and  friends  and 
food,  clothing,  shelter —  The  soul  that  sinneth  against 
health,  it  must  die !  .  .  .  Poor  woman !  Driveling 
about  duty  when  she'd  better  have  been  worrying 
about  weight!  If  the  girth  had  stayed  right,  there'd 
have  been  no  need  of  appeal  to  the  policeman  duty. 
Poor  woman !  Ignorance !  Ignorance !  Ignorance 
and  vanity — and  superstition !  " 

His   grotesque  Oriental  confidant  echoed  him  with 
its  eternal  grin  of  derision  unutterable. 


VI 

"WHO'S    MISS    RAEBUEN?" 

MURDOCH  had  been  gone  a  month;  and  still  Sophy 
had  not  begun.  There  are  always  a  hundred  reasons, 
excellent  reasons,  why  any  venture,  great  or  small, 
should  be  put  off,  should  be  given  up  at  whatever  stage, 
should  not  be  begun  at  all.  And  where  vanity  is  enlisted 
against  action,  the  strongest  will  and  the  most  inflexible 
purpose  must  hesitate.  The  rearrangement  of  the  new 
house — Dumont's  Eyre,  which  Murdock  just  before  his 
departure  had  bought  as  it  stood,  furnished  throughout, 
including  linen  and  china — and  the  preparations  for 
moving  were  Sophy's  pretexts  for  postponing  the  re- 
conquest  of  her  youth.  The  real  cause,  deeper  than 
laziness,  was  belief  in  her  vanity's  reassurance  that  she 
was  "  all  right  as  I  am,  or  at  least  as  good  as  can  be 
expected  at  my  age  and  with  my  natural  tendencies." 
She  no  longer  had  before  her  Murdock's  youthful  face 
and  figure  and  ominous  reserve ;  her  physical  qualms  had 
yielded  to  the  new  kinds  of  nerve  pills  and  digestive 
tablets  she  had  bought  after  reading  their  advertise 
ments  and  testimonials.  To  bother  about  such  vanities 
as  personal  appearance  was  unnecessary,  was  foolish. 
Was  it  not  even  impious? 

"  The  Lord  clearly  intended  me  to  be  large,"  she  re 
flected.  Were  not  Old  Testament  and  New  full  of  denun 
ciations  of  vanity?  As  for  health,  she  decided  that  the 

86 


"WHO'S  MISS  EAEBURN?" 

patent-pill  advertisements  were  right,  that  her  trouble 
was  altogether  nerves,  the  baleful  reaction  of  her 
worries  and  troubles  upon  her  body;  there  was  no 
connection  between  her  sluggishness,  her  headaches 
and  sciatica,  and  the  kind  and  quantity  of  food 
she  ate.  "  Schulze's  a  crank — everybody  knows  that," 
reflected  Sophy.  "  I'll  trust  to  nature.  God  gave 
the  sense  of  taste  to  show  us  what  to  eat  and  what 
not  to  eat,  and  He  proportioned  our  appetites  to  our 
needs." 

So  she  definitely  abandoned  what  she  soon  saw  was  a 
sinful  impulse  to  transfer  her  trust  from  her  God  to 
Doctor  Schulze ;  instead  of  dieting  and  exercise,  she  read 
the  Bible  a  great  deal,  expanded  in  pious  conversation, 
included  in  her  resumed  morning  and  evening  prayers  a 
petition  to  the  Lord  to  keep  her  husband's  love  for  her 
and  remove  vanity  from  his  heart — and  took  pills  and 
powders  and  liquids  for  her  aches  and  pains,  and  ate 
caramels  to  remove  the  taste  and  help  the  medicine 
digest.  Thus,  her  problem  was  solved,  and  in  the  most 
satisfactory  way.  If  all  went  well,  it  was  the  Lord's 
will  that  it  should  be  so;  if  she  did  not  get  answer 
to  her  prayer,  then  the  responsibility  was  with  the 
Lord.  Had  Sophy  not  been  a  religious  woman,  her 
laziness  would  have  selected  some  other  of  the  super 
natural  scapegoats  of  self-excuse — fate,  for  instance, 
or  luck. 

Sophy  was  resigned,  but  in  no  very  good  humor 
about  it.  She  felt  resentful  against  her  deity,  felt  he 
owed  her  some  extremely  pleasant  apology  for  having 
created  her  into  these  degenerate  times.  She  thought  lit 
tle  about  abstract  matters,  yet  she  could  not  help  realiz 
ing  that  everything  was  unsettled  and  unsettling  in  this 
modern  world.  She  dimly  saw  how  these  new  and  there- 

87 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

fore  wicked  impulses  to  change  were  affecting  all  ages 
and  stations  and  both  sexes,  were  disregarding  the  mat 
rimonial  and  the  family  barriers — in  fact,  all  the  bar 
riers  which  religion  and  tradition  had  established.  Hus 
bands  and  wives  no  longer  had  the  habit  of  contentedly 
and  decently  growing  old  together,  as  unmoved  by 
change  as  oysters  in  their  deep-lying  beds  by  swing  of 
tide  or  whirl  of  tempest.  Instead,  one  or  the  other,  or 
both,  became  tainted  by  this  craze  for  change;  and 
there  were  scandals,  domestic  upheavals,  divorces.  What 
right  had  Providence  to  thrust  her  into  such  a  devil's 
stew  of  a  time?  Having  seen  fit  to  do  her  this  injus 
tice,  Providence  could  hardly  do  less  than  see  her  safely 
through. 

The  new  house  being  Sophy's  prime  reason  for  not 
showing  distrust  in  the  divine  custodian  of  her  destinies, 
she  left  all  the  planning  and  all  the  execution  to  her 
daughter.  She  remained  seated  in  her  favorite  chair, 
usually  with  a  box  of  candy  at  hand ;  when  she  was  not 
nursing  a  headache  or  an  attack  of  sciatica  or  neuralgia, 
she  suspended  her  Bible  or  her  novel,  listened  to  what 
Norma  had  to  say,  and  assented,  with  occasional  crit 
icism  to  give  herself  the  sense  of  doing  the  whole  thing. 
But  if  neuralgia  or  headache  or  any  other  reason  made 
her  feel  unequal  to  such  arduous  labor,  she  would  send 
Norma  away  with,  "  Why  do  you  bother  me9  child,  with 
such  trifles?  You  know  I'm  not  well.  You  know  how 
hard  I've  toiled  to  bring  up  you  children  and  take  care 
of  Charles  and  the  house.  It  seems  to  me  I've  earned  the 
right  to  a  little  rest." 

And  Norma,  partly  because  she  was  really  contrite 
over  her  thoughtlessness,  chiefly  perhaps  because  she 
was  glad  to  have  a  free  hand  for  carrying  out  her  own 
teeming  and  positive  ideas,  would  say :  "  I'm  sorry, 

88 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

mother.  You  certainly  have  done  more  than  your  share. 
Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you?  " 

When  Murdock  and  his  son  returned,  brown  and 
hearty  and  looking  like  elder  brother  and  younger,  they 
found  the  family  established  in  the  Eyrie.  Norma  was 
fresh  and  full  of  enthusiasm ;  Sophy  was  haggard,  more 
ample  than  ever,  and  completely  worn  out.  As  Blag- 
den,  before  whom  she  always  to  a  certain  extent  kept  up 
appearances  because  he  was  a  formal  and  most  correct 
Easterner — as  Blagden  had  not  come  back  with  her 
husband  and  her  son,  she  received  them  in  the  loosest  and 
laziest  of  negligees,  her  poor  health  being  the  sufficient 
excuse.  Murdock's  expression,  at  sight  of  her,  was  in 
teresting  and  significant.  He  looked  at  her  furtively, 
with  a  suggestion  of  embarrassment  or  guilt.  The  kiss 
which  the  occasion  demanded  he  gave,  not  in  the  usual 
half-absent,  altogether  perfunctory  way,  but  with 
heightened  color  and  a  sort  of  boyish  timidity.  He 
noted  the  signs  of  ill-health  with  a  solicitude  that  was 
exaggerated  but  sincere. 

"  You've  been  working  too  hard,  Sophy ! "  he  ex 
claimed. 

"  Yes,  indeed.  You  don't  look  at  all  fit,"  chimed 
in  young  Charles.  "  Your  color's  something  awful, 
mother." 

Sophy,  dismayed  by  her  first  glance  at  her  young, 
handsome  husband,  clear  of  eye  and  skin  and  in  perfect 
health,  had  shrunk  sullenly  within  herself.  At  her  son's 
tactless  remark,  she  reddened  and  her  eyes  sparkled. 
But  she  was  too  depressed  for  more  than  a  mere  flash- 
in-the-pan;  the  contrast  between  her  husband  and  her 
self  made  hitherto  sustaining  vanity  slink  away  like  the 
treacherous  coward  that  it  is.  "  He's  worse  steeped  than 
ever  in  sin  and  folly  and  worldliness,"  she  said  to  herself 
7  89 


OLD   WIVES   FOB   NEW 

— which  was  her  way  of  beginning  to  clear  herself  of 
responsibility  for  what  instinct  warned  her  might 
happen. 

Murdock  was  overwhelmed  with  remorse ;  for  he  felt 
that,  while  he  had  been  away  en j  oy ing  himself  and  draw 
ing  huge  splendid  draughts  from  the  reservoirs  of  youth 
and  health,  Sophy  had  been  toiling  under  the  many  addi 
tional  burdens  his  yielding  to  his  daughter's  pleading  had 
placed  upon  her.  "  I  thought  there'd  be  nothing  to  do 
but  move,"  said  he.  He  turned  reproachfully  upon 
abashed  Norma :  "  You  ought  to  have  taken  at  least 
part  of  the  work  and  worry  off  your  mother's  shoul 
ders." 

The  girl  hung  her  head.  "  Norma  has  been  very 
good,"  Sophy  hastened  to  say,  magnanimously  and  with 
not  a  qualm.  "  She  has  done  all  she  could,  and  it  was 
a  great  deal.  But  of  course  she's  a  mere  child,  and  most 
of  the  heavy  work  I  had  to  do  myself."  Mrs.  Murdock 
gave  the  martyr's  sigh,  then  added  with  human  peev 
ishness  :  "  I  knew  how  it'd  be.  That  was  why  I  was 
against  taking  the  house." 

Sophy's  family  had  always  accepted  her  theory  that 
she  was  hard-worked  and  overworked.  Had  they  not  be 
fore  their  very  eyes  the  proof  of  it  in  her  prematurely 
worn  face  and  her  illnesses  that  must  be — in  large  part 
at  least — the  result  of  self-sacrifice  for  home,  husband, 
and  children?  Before  her  plaints  and  implied  re 
proaches  they  all  looked,  and  felt,  thoroughly  ashamed 
of  themselves.  In  the  hope  of  lightening  the  gloom, 
Norma  suggested  timidly :  "  But  now  that  it's  all  over, 
you're  glad  we  moved,  aren't  you,  mother  dear  ?  " 

Sophy  sighed,  not  discontentedly.  "  It's  certainly 
roomier  and  more  convenient,"  she  conceded,  submitting 
to  her  daughter's  caress. 

90 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

"  Well,  rather !  "  exclaimed  young  Charles,  gazing 
delightedly  round  the  handsome,  spacious  general  sit 
ting  room,  with  its  cheerful  coloring  in  furniture,  wood 
work,  and  brocaded  silk  walls.  "  This  is  something 
like !  My,  but  we  are  grand  now." 

"  Wait  till  you  see  the  rest  of  the  house,"  cried 
Norma.  "  It's  a  regular  palace." 

As  Mrs.  Scarborough  had  kept  the  house  in  condi 
tion,  and  as  the  Mur docks  had  bought  it  as  it  stood, 
there  had  been  little  refurnishing  to  do.  Norma  had 
shown  her  father's  own  executive  ability  in  assembling 
servants  and  establishing  routine  and  discipline.  Her 
mother,  not  trained  to  the  management  of  any  but  the 
most  primitive  kind  of  household,  had  made  a  failure 
of  the  other  house,  where  there  had  been  only  five  serv 
ants.  The  cooking  had  been  bad,  the  airing  and  dusting 
slipshod;  except  in  Norma's  own  room,  there  had  not 
been  a  closet  that  was  not  a  wild  chaos  tumbling  out 
whenever  the  door  was  opened.  The  kitchen  had  been 
dirty,  and  the  servants'  bedrooms;  the  housekeeper, 
finally  engaged  in  desperation,  had  kept  her  place  by 
concentrating  on  Mrs.  Murdock's  vanity  to  the  neglect 
of  everything  else.  Roaches  had  even  been  seen  on  the 
dining-room  table,  and  once  they  had  had  a  pest  of  bugs 
and  mice  throughout  the  house.  Norma,  from  the  very 
early  age  at  which  her  paternal  inheritance  of  strong 
character  and  instinct  for  order  had  begun  to  develop, 
was  daily  tempted  to  interfere,  did  occasionally  burst 
out.  But  her  mother  was  as  jealous  of  prerogative  as 
people  usually  are  when  they  are  slothful  in  exercising 
it ;  she  always  quelled  her  daughter — not  a  difficult  mat 
ter,  as  Norma  load  also  inherited  her  father's  aversion  to 
petty  quarrelings  and  bickerings. 

In  making  the  change  to  the  Eyrie,  Norma,  for  the 
91 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

first  time  invested  with  authority,  had  had  a  clash  with 
the  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Theron.  That  lady  had  presumed 
too  far  upon  her  "  pull "  with  Mrs.  Murdock,  had  lost 
the  battle  and  her  place.  "  I  am  housekeeper  now," 
said  Norma  to  her  father,  with  a  great  air.  Since  she 
had  won  Joe,  a  splendid  catch  and  a  really  grown-up 
man,  her  own  opinion  of  herself,  never  small,  had  grown 
hugely.  She  went  stepping  about  like  a  matron  with 
a  brood,  and  delivered  herself  of  her  book-acquired 
household  wisdom  as  if  it  were  the  ripe  result  of  long 
years  of  experience. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sophy  complacently.  "  I  decided  Norma 
must  be  trained  in  housekeeping.  I  don't  approve  of 
the  way  girls  are  brought  up  nowadays,  ignorant  of 
everything  but  foolishness.  So  I'm  giving  her  lessons." 

"  I'm  glad  Mrs.  Theron  has  gone,"  said  Charles 
Junior.  "  The  way  she  did  bootlick  mother  was  some 
thing  sickening.  I've  always  believed  the  fire  in  her 
room  was  caused  by  her  being  drunk  and  upsetting  the 
candle." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  cried  Sophy,  who  prided  herself  upon 
standing  valiantly  for  her  friends.  Hers  was  the  con 
ventional  interpretation  of  the  word  friend — one  who 
flatters  us,  ignores  our  faults,  panders  to  our  weak 
nesses,  and  does  as  we  wish.  "  Mrs.  Theron  was  a  good 
woman.  She  had  a  hasty  temper.  But  who  wouldn't, 
that  had  been  brought  up  in  luxury  and  had  lost  it  all 
and  had  to  work  for  a  living,  just  like  a  domestic?  " 

"But  she  was  a " 

Murdock  stopped  his  son  with  a  frown ;  he  had  had 
enough  of  the  ugly  reminders  of  what  home  in  its  essence 
had  for  years  been  to  him.  He  turned  to  his  daughter, 
his  stern  and  somber  eyes  changing  to  their  more  natural 
good  humor.  "  And  Joe — how's  he?  "  he  asked. 

92 


"WHO'S  MISS   RAEBURN?" 

Norma's  face  was  instantly  radiant.  "  The  same — " 
with  a  smile — "  only  more  so." 

Murdock  stroked  her  hair  and  kissed  her.  "  I  bet 
Charley  a  dinner  that  Joe  wouldn't  join  us." 

"  Who'd  V  thought  him  such  a  muff?  "  grumbled 
Charley.  "  Now,  if  you  were  like  Miss  Raeburn,  I  could 
excuse  his  giving  up  all  that  fun  to  hang  round  you. 
But  for  a  stay-at-home,  a  house  cat,  a  girl  that  won't  go 
in  for  violent  exercise  because,  when  she  stops,  the  mus- 
cles'll  change  to  fat " 

Norma  forgot  her  dignity  of  housekeeper  and  en 
gaged  young  lady,  sprang  at  him  and  fell  to  mussing 
his  hair.  "  You  know  entirely  too  much,  Charley  boy," 
she  cried.  "Who's  Miss  Raeburn?" 

"  Ask  your  father,"  replied  Charley  mischievously, 
as  he  pushed  her  away.  "  Tell  what  a  crack-a-jack  she 
is,  pop — elder  brother,  I  should  say." 

The  "  elder  brother  "  flushed  guiltily ;  he  knew  his 
wife's  gaze  was  suspiciously  on  him.  But  he  said  care 
lessly  enough,  "  We  met  Miss  Raeburn  in  the  woods. 
One  day,  when  Blagden  and  I  were  at  a  distance,  Charley 
here  missed  a  cornered  grizzly  and  it  closed  in  on  him. 
She  stopped  it  with  a  long-range  shot." 

"  Who  is  she,  Charley?  "  asked  Sophy,  like  a  senti 
nel  who  has  heard  a  suspicious  sound,  has  decided  that 
there  was  nothing  in  it,  but  is  on  the  way  to  make  sure. 

"  The  finest  ever !  A  peach,  but  a  brick,  too.  Ask 
Blagden,  when  he  comes.  My,  what  eyes !  They  go 
straight  through  you,  setting  you  afire  as  they  go. 
And  no  nonsense  from  her,  though  she  makes  you  feel 
like  talking  nothing  else.  I'd  marry  her  in  a  minute,  if 
she'd  have  me." 

"But  who  is  she?"  demanded  Sophy.  In  her  best 
moods,  there  was  latterly  little  enough  trace  of  her  natu- 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

ral  good  traits  which  the  years  of  self-indulgence  and  of 
indulgence  from  all  around  her  had  so  deeply  buried.  In 
her  worst  moods  she  was  what  unchallenged  selfishness 
would  in  a  very  little  time  make  of  an  angel  of  light. 
Her  eyes,  bent  upon  her  husband,  showed  that  she  was 
on  the  verge  of  one  of  her  very  worst  moods. 

"  I'm  telling  you  who  she  is,"  retorted  Charley. 
"  She  came  up  there  with  a  maid " 

66  Came  from  where?  " 

"  New  York,  I  guess— Blagden  felt  sure  of  it.  With 
a  maid  and  a  patent  tent  like  a  palace,  and  a  complete 
outfit  for  the  easy  life.  She  wore  as  many  veils  as 
Norma  does,  and  took  no  end  of  care  of  her  hair  and 
skin.  And  my,  what  hair !  Do  you  remember,  brother, 
the  morning  you  and  Blagden  caught  her  drying  it — up 
among  the  rocks  ?  " 

Murdock,  pale,  with  features  curiously  set,  seemed 
not  to  hear.  Sophy's  hands,  in  her  lap,  were  trembling 
and  fluttering  viciously. 

"  No  hardship  for  her — not  a  mosquito  bite,  not  a 
freckle,"  continued  her  tormentor.  "  They  all  laughed 
when  she  first  came,  but  not  for  long.  She'd  go  any 
where — and  shoot! — and  fish! —  She  has  Nimrod  and 
old  Isaak  stung  to  a  standstill." 

"  It  sounds — bold  and  common,"  said  Sophy,  in  a 
suffocated  voice. 

"  So  it  does,"  mocked  her  son.  "  And  she  had  no 
chaperon — but  the  maid.  Just  the  two  women  and  their 
guides,  and  not  a  house  or  a  road  within  fifty  miles.  Be 
careful  what  you  say  about  her,  mom.  You  may  have 
to  receive  her  as  your  daughter  yet." 

If  Norma  had  been  observing  her  mother,  she  would 
have  tried  to  change  the  subject.  But  she  was  absorbed 
in  her  brother's  narrative.  "  Pretty?  "  asked  she,  a  lit- 

94 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

tie  jealously.  She  had  an  excellent  opinion  of  her  own 
charms  and  talents;  these  eulogies  were  too  sweeping 
not  to  be  ruffling.  "  Really  pretty?  " 

"  Pop  and  secretary  thought  so  the  minute  we  saw 
her,  and  I  didn't.  But  he  and  Blagden  were  right.  She 
looks — well,  different.  You  can't  forget  her  eyes." 

Both  Norma  and  Charley  startled  and  stared  open- 
mouthed  as  Sophy  burst  out  at  her  husband :  "  What 
kind  of  a  person  is  this,  anyway  ?  "  The  voice  was 
utterly  unlike  hers,  and  her  features  were  painfully  awry 
and  overspread  by  a  purple  flush.  She  had  the  intense 
jealousy  that  goes  with  exaggerated  self-esteem;  but  in 
their  entire  married  life  she  had  never  before  had  oppor 
tunity  to  reveal  it.  Just  the  right  conditions  had  come 
about ;  the  apparently  harmless  chemicals  exploded. 

The  children's  eyes  turned  from  their  mother  to 
their  father.  He,  suddenly  cool  and  self-possessed,  ele 
vated  his  eyebrows  in  indifference  that  was  slightly  dis 
dainful.  "  How  could  anybody  add  to  what  the  boy  has 
told  you?  Come  along,  Norma,  and  show  me  the  house. 
I  want  to  see  what  your  mother  and  you  have  done." 

"  You  can't  put  me  off,  this  way !  "  cried  Sophy, 
with  flashing  eyes  and  dilating  nostrils.  "  I've  the  right 
to  know  the  kind  of  people  you've  been  allowing  my  boy 
to  associate  with." 

Murdock  frowned,  froze.  "  I  don't  think  the  boy 
came  to  any  harm,"  he  said  curtly.  "  I  know  nothing 
about  her,  beyond  what  he  has  told  you." 

"  Where  does  she  come  from  ?  " 

"  Really,  she  didn't  say." 

"  Yet  you  saw  a  good  deal  of  her !  " 

"  Well,  we  did  go  in  bathing  with  her  a  few  times," 
put  in  Charley,  with  intent  to  aggravate  the  situation 
whose  seriousness  he  did  not  in  the  least  appreciate, 

95 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

"  And  she  taught  me  how  to  swim  overhand — that  is, 
she  and  I  taught  the  governor."  Then,  seeing  in  his 
mother's  countenance  that  the  joke  was  coming  on 
splendidly,  he  added :  "  We  got  Blagden  to  tell  her  we 
were  brothers,  and  didn't  undeceive  her  till  the  last  day." 

"  Is  this  true?  "  demanded  Sophy  of  her  husband. 

"  Why  not?  "  said  he  indifferently. 

"  The  governor  made  me  tell  her,"  the  boy  went  on. 
"  I  will  say  that  for  him.  And,  my  eye !  How  queer 
she  did  act  when  I  gave  the  snap  away.  She  looked 
shaky  in  the  steeple  for  a  minute,  and  then  I  think  she 
got  mad — or  something  like  that.  But  she  pretended 
not  to  care.  .  .  .  Come  to  think  of  it,  brother,  you  must 
have  made  quite  a  hit  with  her." 

Murdock  laughed  easily.  "  That's  modest  of  you," 
said  he. 

"  How  long  were  you  with  this  person  ?  "  demanded 
Sophy  of  her  husband,  her  manner  so  insulting  that 
Norma,  on  the  way  to  the  door  to  escape  the  distressing 
scene,  turned  and,  before  she  could  restrain  herself,  made 
an  appealing  gesture  toward  her. 

"  Every  day  for  six  weeks,"  answered  Murdock. 

"  And  I  guess  we'd  have  been  with  her  yet,  if  she 
hadn't  left  us,"  said  Charley.  "  She  went  to  join  her 
sister  at  Lake  Minnetonka.  You  remember,  it  was  the 
day  after  she  found  out  the  truth  about  us." 

"  So  it  was,"  said  Murdock. 

"  What  made  you  so  anxious  all  of  a  sudden  to  have 
her  know?  "  inquired  Charley,  as  if  the  strangeness  of 
it  had  just  flashed  upon  him. 

Sophy's  expression  became  so  terrible  that  even  Char 
ley  was  alarmed.  "  I  never  heard  the  like — never !  " 
exclaimed  she,  when  she  recovered  power  of  speech.  "  I 
don't  know  what  to  say  or  think." 

96 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

"Really?"  said  Murdock  coldly.  And  his  look 
checked  her,  gave  her  a  menacing  glimpse  of  that  awe- 
inspiring  mystery  within  him  which  she  had  never  fath 
omed.  He  addressed  his  daughter.  "  Come,  Norma. 
Let's  look  through  the  house."  Both  the  children,  after 
frightened  wondering  glances  at  their  mother,  followed 
him  from  the  room. 

But  for  the  collision  with  his  wife,  he  would  probably 
have  noted  only  casually  if  at  all  the  ingenious  arrange 
ments  which  Norma  had  made  for  the  family  comfort, 
certainly  would  never  have  thought  to  inquire  where  they 
originated.  Like  most  men  he  knew  little  about  house 
keeping,  and  that  little  had  not  roused  his  curiosity  to 
inquire  further,  had  rather  made  him  feel  that  it  was 
wise  to  ignore  domestic  economy  under  pain  of  increasing 
his  irritations  and  completing  the  destruction  of  any 
remaining  illusion  he  might  have  on  the  subject  of  home. 
Now,  with  the  results  of  Norma's  intelligent  turning  to 
account  of  everything  in  that  well-planned,  well-equipped 
house  passing  in  review  before  him,  he  began  to  see  that 
if  the  business  is  one  half  of  life  the  housekeeping  is 
the  other  half,  is  the  coordinate  and  equal  branch,  de 
serving  and  demanding  equal  skill  and  industry.  He  was 
getting  concrete  illustration  of  the  great  truth,  so  im 
portant  to  civilization  yet  universally  overlooked,  that 
the  problem  of  spending  money  is  as  complex,  as  difficult 
as  the  problem  of  making  it. 

His  silence,  as  he  revolved  these  new  ideas,  with  their 
far-reaching  implications,  made  his  daughter  more  and 
more  uneasy.  "You  don't  like  it?"  she  said  at  last, 
disconsolately.  "  And  I  took  such  pains  to  try  to  please 
you!" 

His  face  instantly  reassured  her,  and  more.  "  You're 
a  genius,"  he  replied,  and  in  his  inexperience  he  was 

97 


'OLD   WIVES  !FOJg  NEW 

crediting  to  her  all  that  had  been  done  by  their  predeces 
sors  in  the  house  as  well  as  what  she  had  done.  "  You've 
shown  me  that  the  word  woman  has  a  very  different 
meaning  from  what  I  suspected.  Joe  is  getting  a  great 
deal  better  bargain  than  he  dreams." 

"  That's  right,  Norma,"  endorsed  Charley  with  en 
thusiasm.  "  You  begin  to  remind  me  of  Juliet  Raeburn. 
This  is  the  sort  of  thing  she'd  do." 

Murdock  apparently  did  not  hear.  His  face  had  a 
wistful,  lonely  expression  as  he  went  on,  "  And  I — we 
— are  losing — "  He  did  not  finish.  Presently  he  said, 
in  jest,  but  not  altogether  in  jest:  "  I  wish  I'd  had  some 
of  this  kind  of  talent  to  help  me  at  the  works.  We  men 
are  a  clumsy,  slatternly  lot." 

"  The  women  are  woefully  incompetent,"  said  Norma 
doubtfully,  with  a  venerable  air  of  wisdom  and  experi 
ence.  "  If  it  could  be  arranged,  I'd  have  only  men 
servants.  The  young  women  give  only  a  lick  and  a 
promise  to  their  work  because  they're  looking  forward  to 
trapping  some  man  into  supporting  them  in  idleness. 
As  for  the  older  women,  they've  been  demoralized  in  their 
youth." 

"  Men  are  not  so  competent  as  you  think,"  replied 
Murdock,  secretly  much  amused  by  Norma's  superhu 
man  gravity.  "  The  best  of  us  work  poorly  enough — 
little  system,  little  concentration,  eyes  wandering  to  the 
clock." 

"  But  if  the  men  were  as  worthless  as  the  women — " 
began  Norma. 

Murdock  laughed.  "  They  would  be  if  they  dared — 
if  they  didn't  have  competition  to  compel  them,"  said 
he.  "  Unfortunately  for  the  women,  there's  no  compe 
tition  among  housewives." 

"  You'd  never  have  caught  Joe  with  your  housekeep- 
98 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBVRN?" 

ing,"  put  in  Charley.  "  A  man  doesn't  marry  for 
that." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Norma.  "  No  more  would  a 
woman  marry  the  best  business  man  among  the  men  that 
asked  her.  But  a  man's  own  self-respect  ought  to  make 
him  inform  himself  about  his  business,  just  as  a  woman's 
self-respect  ought  to  make  her  educate  herself  about  her 
business." 

Charley  grinned.  "  My,  but  you're  smart — ain't  she, 
father?  Look  out  or  Joe'll  be  afraid  to  marry  you. 
You  ought  to  have  a  few  lessons  from  Juliet.  Now,  she 
was  smart  without  airs  or  bluff." 

"  Juliet ! "  cried  Norma,  chagrined  and  angry. 
"  You  and  she  must  have  got  on !  " 

Murdock  had  not  heard  these  last  remarks.  He 
was  deep  in  his  own  thoughts.  Here  was  a  girl  who  rep 
resented  the  new  order  in  women  just  as  he  himself 
represented  the  new  order  in  men.  There  was  the  old- 
fashioned  woman  who  was  more  or  less  competent,  not 
entirely  incompetent,  to  deal  with  the  problems  of  do 
mestic  affairs  as  they  existed  under  the  old  order — the 
order  that  had  been  established  almost  without  change, 
since  prehistoric  time.  And  there  was  the  old-fashioned 
man  who  could  deal  well  enough  with  the  conditions  which 
existed  before  the  world  became  one  vast  cooperating 
family.  But  discovery  and  invention  had  changed  all 
those  conditions,  had  revolutionized  them ;  and  how  few 
were  the  men  and  the  women  who  had  promptly  responded, 
had  educated  themselves,  had  made  themselves  expert, 
had  put  themselves  in  a  position  to  take  full  advantage 
of  the  gifts  science  was  thrusting  upon  the  race !  Mur 
dock  had  often  thought  of  these  things  as  related  to  his 
own  affairs — to  industry  and  commerce;  he  had  often 
had  qualms  of  conscience  when  he,  like  the  other  strong 

99 


OLD   WIVES  FOB   NEW 

and  acute  heapers  up  of  private  wealth,  had  taken  both 
legitimate  and  illegitimate  advantage  of  the  obstinate 
and  sluggish  ignorance  of  his  fellow-men,  had  used  their 
tenacity  in  ignorance  to  make  out  of  them  much  money 
for  himself.  But  he  had  never  before  noticed  this  vast 
other  half  of  the  matter — the  bearing  of  the  scientific 
revolution  upon  woman  and  the  home. 

"  You  have  been  thinking  about — studying — house 
keeping  a  great  deal  ?  "  he  said  to  his  daughter. 

"  Oh,  I'm  very  ignorant,  as  yet,"  replied  she,  quite 
recovered  from  the  setback  Charley  had  given  her. 
u  But  some  day —  When  I've  a  house  of  my  own,  I'm 
going  to  see  what  I  can  do.  You  wouldn't  believe  how 
foolish  the  education  they  give  women  is.  Why,  it's 
no  education  at  all.  And  all  the  ideas  are  so  false  and 
pretentious — so  vulgar — everything  for  show,  for  play 
ing  the  useless  lady,  for  leading  a  life  that  doesn't  get 
anywhere.  They  call  it  culture.  I  call  it — rot." 

"Listen  to  the  blue  stocking!"  cried  her  brother. 
"  Better  not  let  Joe  hear  you  talk  that  way." 

Norma  gave  a  confident  little  toss  of  the  head.  "  I 
guess  Joe  and  I  understand  each  other." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  retorted  Charley.  "  Nobody  was  ever 
yet  able  to  see  straight  in  moonshine." 

They  returned  to  where  Sophy  was  sitting  with  the 
smelling  salts  and  a  novel — one  of  those  novels  written  to 
appeal  to  the  vanity  of  women  by  exaggerating  their 
brief,  doubtful  and  dearly-bought  triumphs  through 
the  passions  of  men  into  substantial  and  important 
conquests.  She  did  not  glance  up  when  the  three  re- 
entered  the  general  living  room.  She  made  an  oppress 
ive  silence  there;  Charley  asked  Norma  to  play  squash 
with  him,  and  Norma,  with  an  uneasy  glance  from  her 
mother  to  her  father,  accepted.  As  they  were  leaving, 

100 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

Charley,  genius  at  tactlessness,  said :  "  Just  you  wait, 
Norma,  till  Blagden  ships  along  the  boxes  and  you  see 
the  grizzly  Miss  Raeburn  killed.  She  gave  it  to  me." 

Sophy,  startled,  set  her  teeth  firmly.  But  she  waited 
until  the  children  were  out  of  earshot,  before  saying  to 
her  husband :  "  The  more  I  think  of  that  woman,  the 
more  I'm  astonished  at  you."  Her  voice  was  peevish 
rather  than  wrathful  now.  In  the  interval  she  had  re 
covered  her  temper,  had  seen  that  her  explosion  was  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  provoking  cause.  "  I  simply 
can't  believe  you  know  so  little  about  her.  And  I  don't 
believe  she  was — respectable." 

Murdock  moved  toward  the  long  window  by  which 
Charley  and  Norma  had  gone.  Halfway  he  changed  his 
mind,  turned.  "  Sophy,"  he  said  in  his  frankest,  most 
winning  manner,  "  can't  we  get  through  even  the  first 
day  without  irritating  each  other?  Come!  Let's  try 
to  get  on  together  without  being  always  on  the  edge  of 
a  quarrel.  It  isn't  fair  to  the  children.  Why,  we've 
nothing  to  quarrel  about." 

Sophy  refused  to  meet  his  gaze.  "  You'd  better  go 
and  ask  your  God  to  forgive  you  for  the  evil  thoughts 
that've  been  choking  up  your  heart.  I  can't  but  feel 
all  this  is  a  judgment  sent  on  me  for  my  carelessness 
about  religion.  It  has  opened  my  eyes  to  my  duty  to 
God." 

Since  their  marriage,  which  released  them  while  still 
in  their  teens  from  the  stern  and  strenuous  regimen  of 
their  pious  parents,  they  had  given  religion  the  most 
meagerly  conventional  place  in  their  lives.  He  himself, 
too  busy  to  face  any  problem  until  it  faced  him,  was 
not  sure,  or  curious  even,  what  he  believed,  if  he  believed 
at  all.  Theretofore  he  had  never  seen  or  heard  anything 
from  her  that  indicated  more  than  a  perfunctory  acqui- 

101 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

escence  in  the  faith  in  which  she  had  been  bred.     At 
these  perfervid  expressions  from  her,  he  stared. 

"  I've  turned  to  religion,"  she  explained,  rather  sul 
lenly,  as  if  her  sincerity  were  questioned,  "  for  the 
strength  to  bear  my  trials.  But  for  the  aid  God  has 
given  me  I'd  have  broken  down  under  the  burdens  He 
has  laid  upon  me." 

"  What  trials  ?  "  he  inquired  gravely,  though  he 
could  not  keep  a  slight  quiver  of  suppressed  amusement 
out  of  his  voice.  "  What  burdens  ?  " 

"  I  don't  propose  to  be  insulted,"  replied  she.  The 
load  that  had  broken  the  back  of  her  meek,  martyrlike 
endurance  was  made  up  of  a  multitude  of  straws  of 
slight  and  neglect,  each  light  in  itself  and  apparently 
nothing.  She  would  not  let  him  cleverly  discredit  it  by 
forcing  her  to  exhibit  the  straws  one  at  a  time.  "  I  have 
taken  my  sorrow  to  God  in  prayer.  He  is  comforting 
me." 

"What  sorrow?"  he  demanded.  Now  it  was  irri 
tation  that  he  was  struggling  to  suppress. 

She  held  to  aggrieved  silence. 

"  If  there's  anything  you  wish,  you've  only  to  ask 
for  it." 

Silence. 

"  Is  it  with  me  you're  finding  fault — with  something 
I've  done  or  failed  to  do?  " 

Silence. 

"As  for — Miss  Raeburn " 

She  turned  her  head  angrily.  "  I  care  nothing  about 
the  low  woman  you  neglect  your  wife  and  family 
for." 

"  Sophy ! "  He  tried  to  make  his  tone  a  remon 
strance;  in  spite  of  him  it  was  subtly  apologetic — and, 
without  realizing,  she  felt  it,  was  stung  by  it. 

102 


"WHO'S  MISS   RAEBURN?" 

"  If  only  vile,  carnal  things  will  keep  a  man  to  his 
duty — "  She  tossed  her  head  and  drew  in  her  lips 
acridly —  "  I  don't  feel  that  God  wishes  me  to  keep 
him." 

"  Was  there  ever  such  rubbish  since  the  world  be 
gan  !  "  cried  he.  "  If  anybody  in  this  family  ought  to 
appeal  to  God  for  strength,  it's  certainly  I — strength 
to  put  up  with  a  whining  woman,  jealous  without 
cause." 

"I — jealous!"  Sophy  laughed  harshly.  Her  blue 
eyes  were  pale  and  cold-looking.  "  You  flatter  your 
self.  I  don't  care  what  you  do,  so  long  as  you  don't 
flaunt  it  in  your  family,  and  use  your  own  children  to 
help  you  in  your  low  intrigues." 

"Intrigues!"  The  charge  was  so  unjust  that  he 
now  felt  like  outraged  innocence.  "  Intrigues,"  he  re 
peated  in  angry  disgust.  "  Idiotic!  "  And  he  jammed 
his  fists  in  the  outside  pockets  of  his  coat  and  paced  up 
and  down.  "  Imbecility !  " 

Sophy  pounced  upon  the  advantage.  "  That's  right 
— insult  me.  Oh,  you  think  I'm  a  blind  fool.  You  don't 
think  I  realize  how  you've  been  contrasting  and  dispar 
aging  your  wife,  the  mother  of  your  children." 

Murdock  wheeled  and  faced  her  with  a  violent  ges 
ture.  "  To  the  devil  with  that  *  mother-of-your-chil- 
dren  '  nonsense !  "  cried  he,  in  the  frank  anger  that  is 
without  venom.  "  Norma  and  the  boy  are  as  much 
your  children  as  mine.  This  is  as  much  your  house 
as  mine.  I  might  as  justly  talk  about  your  being 
under  obligation  to  me  for  the  money  you  and  they 
have  spent  as  for  you  to  moan  and  whimper  about 
what  you've  done  in  the  way  of  looking  after  the  house 
and  children.  Have  you  worked  hard?  At  what? 
And,  if  you  have,  haven't  I?  Oughtn't  everybody? 

103 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Isn't   it   good   to   work?     Where's   the  title   to   sym 
pathy?" 

Mrs.  Murdock  was  looking  at  him  now;  her  eyes 
were  ablaze  with  resentment.  "  So !  "  she  cried,  empha 
sizing  her  words  with  tosses  of  the  head.  "  So !  I've 
done  nothing !  I  ought  to  be  grateful  to  you  for  hav 
ing  supported  me !  I'm  worn  out,  and  you  want  to  cast 
me  aside  and  take  another  fresh  young  girl ! "  Her 
heavy  cheeks — fat,  yet  with  sick  hollows  in  them — quiv 
ered.  Her  broad  bosom,  uppiled  and  festooned  with  the 
lace  of  her  gray  negligee,  heaved  and  caved  stormily. 
She  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  never  thought  such  a  thing,"  retorted  he.  "  Be 
careful  how  you  put  those  ideas  into  my  head." 

Sophy  choked  hysterically.  "  O  God !  "  she  wailed. 
"  What  have  I  done  that  such  affliction  should  be  sent 
on  me?" 

But  Murdock  was  in  no  mood  to  be  moved  by  this 
spectacle.  "  Look  here,  Sophy,"  he  said ;  his  face  and 
voice  confirmed  her  in  her  belief  in  his  heartlessness. 
"  You're  not  nearly  so  irrational  and  unjust  as  you're 
pretending.  Nobody  was  ever  created  with  as  little 
common  sense  as  you're  trying  to  make  me  believe  you've 
got.  But  I'm  not  going  to  be  lured  into  saying  the 
things  about  you — about  our  married  life — that  I  might 
justly  say " 

"  Instead  of  coming  home  to  harass  and  insult  your 
sick  wife,  you'd  better  have  stayed  on  with  that  Raeburn 
woman." 

His  anger  had  passed  the  molten  stage,  was  getting 
hard  and  cold.  "  As  you  please,"  said  he  tranquilly. 
"  But — just  one  thing  more.  I  understand  perfectly 
why  you  are  suddenly  irritated  against  me.  In  the  life 
of  everybody  who  makes  a  mess  of  opportunity,  there 

104 


"WHO'S   MISS   RAEBURN?" 

comes  a  time  when  he  or  she  has  to  choose  between  blam 
ing  felf  and  blaming  some  one  else  for  the  mess.  That 
time  seems  to  have  come  for  you.  And  you're  try 
ing  \  o  make  me  the  chief  figure  in  your  scheme  for  self- 
excuse." 

Sophy  did  not  see  it ;  but  instinct  warned  her  that,  if 
she  Fingered,  she  might  see  something  which  would  show 
her  there  was  another  side  to  this  domestic  question, 
and,  so,  might  weaken  her  sense  of  self- righteousness. 
She  rose  with  much  dignity.  "  I'll  not  listen  to  such 
talk  ,  "  cried  she.  "  Go  to  your  Raeburn  woman !  "  And 
she  riioved  toward  the  door. 

He  put  himself  between  it  and  her.  Each  was  look 
ing  at  the  other ;  their  eyes  were  pitiless — his  aggressive, 
hem  passive.  "  Perhaps  I  shall !  "  said  he  coldly.  Then 
he  ndded,  "  No,  that  is  unjust  to  her." 

"  Insults  for  your  wife.   Consideration  for  your " 

His  look  and  his  gesture  stopped  her.  "  Instead  of 
reviling  her,"  said  he,  with  a  straightforward,  inexperi 
enced  man's  imprudence,  "  you  should  be  grateful  to  her 
for  being  strong  where  I  might  have  been  weak.  Yes, 
I  was  tempted — though  not  by  her — no,  by  you — by 
your — •  But  let  that  pass.  Just  one  thing  more.  Be 
careful  how  you  goad  me.  And,  instead  of  making  life 
a  hell  for  yourself  and  for  me,  instead  of  engaging  in 
the  lazy  business  of  praying,  you'd  better  bestir  your 
self  and  try  to  make  your  home  comfortable  and  your 
family  happy.  And  it  wouldn't  do  any  harm  to  take  a 
bath  once  in  a  while — and  wash  your  hair." 

She  sank  into  a  chair,  and  her  sudden  faintness  was 
not  the  insincerity  he  suspected.  Her  huge  undigested 
lunch  was  pressing  heavily  upon  her  heart.  "  Call  my 
maid !  "  she  gasped.  "  I'm  ill— ill." 

He  looked  at  her,  sneered,  rang  the  bell.  "  If  I  ate 
8  105 


OLD   WIVES   FOB   NEW 

the  things  you  do,  and  took  as  little  exercise,  I'd  be 
dead,"  said  he,  and  left  her. 

He  remembered  that  in  John  Dumont's  day  the 
library  and  the  rooms  adjoining  it  had  been  his  private 
suite.  Murdock  had  his  valet  change  them  back  to  a 
living  suite  again.  And  that  night  he  established  him 
self  there  alone. 


VII 


NEITHER  Sophy  nor  Murdock  expected,  or  intended, 
the  new  arrangement  to  be  permanent.  With  him,  anger 
against  her  speedily  changed  to  anger  against  himself. 
He  had  always  been  a  keen  and,  what  is  rarer  still,  an 
accurate  observer  of  human  nature  —  particularly,  for 
reasons  of  self-guidance,  of  its  disaster-breeding  weak 
nesses.  He  had  not  failed  to  note  the  universal  passion 
for  self-excuse ;  and,  warned  by  its  ravages,  he  had  made 
it  his  inflexible  rule  to  assume  that  wherever  his  affairs 
went  wrong  he  himself  and  no  other  was  primarily  and 
chiefly  at  fault. 

Thus  he  was  soon  admitting  to  himself  that,  but 
for  his  stupid,  tactless  confession  about  Juliet  Rae- 
burn,  Sophy  would  not  have  provoked  him  into  a  pain 
ful  quarrel  in  which  he  had  uttered  truths  the  more  in 
excusable  because  they  were  truths — for  there  lay  their 
rankling  sting.  A  short  time,  and  he  was  going  still 
further  in  the  direction  of  just  self- judgment.  He  re 
viewed  with  less  lenient  eyes  his  month  in  the  woods  with 
Juliet  Raeburn — twenty-seven  days  of  daily,  unconven 
tional,  untrammeled  association  with  a  beautiful,  more 
than  beautiful,  young  woman,  a  woman  such  as  he  had 
long  since  assumed  had  no  existence  outside  his  dreams. 
He  recalled  how  they  had  deceived  themselves  as  to  the 
real  nature  of  their  feeling  toward  each  other  until  the 

107 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

very  last  day  of  her  stay ;  recalled  the  catastrophe — he 
and  she  fishing  far  upstream  and  alone — she  slipped  on 
the  wet  rock — how,  to  save  her  from  the  rapids,  he  caught 
her  in  his  arms — and  kissed  her — or  did  their  lips  meet 
halfway? — and  he  learned  his  own  secret — and — yes — 
her  look  revealed  to  him  her  secret.  Recalling  these 
things,  he  felt — though  he  was  thrilling  and  tingling  as 
always  at  the  memory  of  them — he  now  felt  there  was  but 
the  one  reason  for  the  dismal  fiasco  of  his  homecoming. 
He  called  it  a  fiasco,  because  he  had  come  resolved  to  put 
Juliet  out  of  his  thoughts,  since  there  was  no  fit  place 
for  her  in  his  life,  and  resolved  to  make  the  best  of 
things  and  "  do  his  duty  "  by  Sophy. 

In  face  of  these  facts  of  his  own  responsibility,  his 
attitude  toward  Sophy  became  apologetic  and  concilia 
tory — in  the  guarded  way  which  prudence  imposes  in 
dealing  with  human  nature,  so  prone  to  misinterpret  con 
sideration  as  weakness.  As  for  Sophy,  inertia — that 
teeming  source  of  reputations  for  good  nature  and  gen 
erosity — made  it  impossible  for  her  to  persist  in  any 
thing,  especially  in  such  a  ravenous  demander  of  fresh 
fuel  as  hate,  without  strong  and  steady  pressure  from 
without.  After  the  habit  of  unreflecting  humanity,  she 
accepted  the  thing-that-is  as  permanent,  believed  change 
highly  improbable,  all  but  impossible — this,  when  the 
world's  sole  certainty  is  that  the  thing-that-is  will  not 
abide.  Her  husband  was  once  more  at  home;  at  home 
he  would  remain,  and  safe  from  wiles ;  it  was  meet  and 
proper  that  husband  and  wife  should  occupy  the  same 
bed;  a  few  days,  a  few  weeks  at  most,  and  the  inter 
rupted  order  would  reestablish  itself. 

But  the  days,  the  weeks,  the  months  went;  and  the 
temporary  separation  slowly  insinuated  into  a  custom, 
satisfactory  to  both. 

108 


DANGERFIELD'S 


In  spite  of  his  penitence,  Murdock,  though  under 
less  provocation  than  ever  before  apparently,  as  he  and 
Sophy  met  only  at  lunch  and  at  dinner,  was  nevertheless 
not  occasionally  but  constantly  in  the  critical  mood 
toward  her  stagnation  in  the  old  ways.  In  vain  he  ac 
cused  himself  of  being  unfair,  because  of  his,  at  times 
fierce,  at  times  wretched,  always  sternly  rebuked  longing 
for  another  woman.  In  vain  he  told  himself  he  was 
finding  fault  with  what  was  still  the  regular  and  the 
expected  among  respectable  women ;  he  made  no  impres 
sion  upon  the  outraged  and  now  morbid  sensibilities  of 
his  physical  fastidiousness.  Also,  he  began  clearly  to 
see  that  this  physical  fastidiousness  of  his  was  in  reality 
the  deep-down  ultimate  moving  cause  of  their  cleavage. 
His  analytic  mind  went  back  through  the  years  to  its 
earliest  beginnings  —  went  back  to  apparently  trivial 
happenings  which  memory  had  filed,  without  his  then 
in  the  least  comprehending  their  significance.  These 
happenings  were  of  the  kind  that  would,  if  he  had 
thought  of  them  at  all,  have  been  approved  by  him 
at  the  time  as  evidence  that  she  was  a  modest,  moral 
woman,  with  no  taint  of  carnal-mindedness.  But  he 
realized  now  that  his  nerves  had  not  approved.  What 
a  man  respects  in  a  woman  has  a  more  or  less  conven 
tional  origin;  what  he  likes  springs  from  sources  far 
deeper — from  the  very  heart  of  the  heart  of  his  real 
nature. 

Sophy,  for  her  part,  was  no  less  content  with  the 
new  order  of  separate  beds  and  separate  apartments. 
She  now  realized — of  course,  without  analyzing  her  feel 
ings — that  Murdock  had  long  been  an  irritating  in 
trusion.  His  modernizing  of  his  personal  habits  had 
not  been  consciously  noted  by  her;  yet  she  had  felt  it 
hardly  the  less  keenly.  The  first  impulse  of  humanity's 

109 


OLD   WIVES  FOB   NEW 

anger  toward  new  truth  of  any  kind  comes  from  the 
laziness  that  shrinks  from  the  labor  of  learning;  but 
the  anger  abides  because  the  new  truth  is  essentially  a 
caustic  criticism  of  the  old  error  and  of  all  who  persist 
in  it.  Murdock's  evening  bath  and  morning  shower,  his 
fastidiousness — "  crankiness  "  she  thought  it — about  his 
shirts  and  underclothes  had  not  roused  her  to  imitation. 
Was  she  not  perfectly  clean  and  fresh?  Why  waste 
time  and  effort?  Why  open  the  pores  perilously  wide? 
Why  wear  out  clean  clothes  by  having  them  laundered 
when  they  didn't  need  it  ?  Was  she  not  more  particular 
than  most,  as  particular  as  it  was  necessary  for  a  clean 
woman  to  be,  as  particular  as  it  was  respectable  for  a 
pure  woman  to  be?  His  new  habits  had  merely  irri-* 
tated  her  against  him;  it  had  never  occurred  to  her 
to  ask  herself  why  she  would  be  ashamed  to  have  it 
known  that  she  bathed  and  changed  but  once  a  week 
— at  most. 

Thus,  the  innovation  of  separate  beds  and  separate 
apartments,  giving  her  more  room,  absolute  freedom 
from  eyes  that  seemed  to  her  to  pry  and  censure,  soon 
contented  her  so  completely  that  she  would  have  been 
more  averse,  if  possible,  than  he  to  going  back  to  the  old 
order.  And,  despite  her  almost  incessant  depression  and 
frequent  attacks  of  neuralgia  and  headache  and  back 
ache,  she  became  less  uncertain  of  temper. 

"  Mother's  disposition  seems  to  be  improving,"  said 
Charley  to  Norma.  "  She's  more  what  she  used  to  be 
when  we  were  children.  You've  noticed  it  ?  " 

Norma  admitted  she  had.  "  I  guess  she  likes  the 
new  house  better,"  was  her  explanation. 

"And  father's,  too,"  continued  Charley.  "There 
was  a  time  after  we  got  back  from  the  woods  last  year 
when  I  thought  his  nerves  were  going  to  pieces.  But 

110 


DANGERFIELD'S 


he's  himself  again.  So  many  couples  are  acting  up 
nowadays  that  I  was  afraid — "  He  ended  without  ven 
turing  to  put  his  fear  into  words. 

"  What  a  silly  you  are ! "  cried  Norma,  the  more 
indignant  because  she  had  herself  been  secretly  striving 
with  that  same  fear. 

"  Well — you  never  can  tell,"  maintained  her  brother. 

"  Not  our  father  and  our  mother." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  assented  Charley.  Then,  after 
a  silence,  he  added,  in  a  vague  impersonal  way,  "  I  tell 
you,  Norma,  you  do  well  to  be  mighty  particular  about 
yourself — about  your  hair — and  skin — and  bathing — • 
and — all  that.  The  day's  gone  by  when  a  female  can 
afford  to  think  she's  fresh  simply  because  she  has  washed 
her  face  and  sleeked  her  hair  down  a  bit." 

No  answer  from  Norma — unless  deepened  color  and 
a  glance  to  make  sure  he  was  filially  unconscious  of  his 
train  of  thought  were  answer. 

Presently  Charley  dismissed  the  subject,  from  his 
mind  at  least,  with  "  Well,  anyhow,  everything's  all 
serene  again." 

Serene  was  precisely  the  word.  The  separate  sleep 
ing  apartments  seemed  to  have  been  just  what  was 
needed  to  reunite  Sophy  and  Murdock  in  a  matrimonial 
modus  vivendi  insuring  peace  and  permanence.  In  fact, 
the  very  act  which  thus  seemed  to  have  brought  about 
a  reconciliation  had  made  reconciliation  impossible.  The 
husband  and  wife  who  sleep  side  by  side  may  bore,  may 
irritate,  may  enrage  each  other,  may  quarrel  bitterly, 
may  go  widely  separate  waj7s  from  rising  to  bedtime; 
still,  the  bond  of  union  will  be  there,  as  irksome  perhaps 
as  was  that  of  the  Siamese  twins,  but  also  as  indissol 
uble.  If  Sophy  and  Murdock  had  loved  each  other,  if 
there  had  even  been  the  occasional  play  of  passion's  fitful 

111 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

flame  upon  the  matrimonial  hearth,  a  brief  separation 
would  have  brought  them  together  again,  more  close 
than  in  years.  But  the  content  of  both  in  the  new  order 
was  proof  that  the  hearth  was  dead  and  cold.  And,  no 
longer  together  in  any  hour  of  intimacy  or  real  privacy, 
they  would  never  have  the  chance  to  become  reconciled ; 
they  would  remain  strangers,  the  further  apart  for  the 
studied  politeness  of  each  to  the  other. 

Taking  society  in  its  entirety,  deep  and  strong  at 
traction,  resulting  in  unity  of  mind  and  heart,  plays 
but  an  insignificant  part  in  marriage.  Instead,  we  find 
a  vast  variety  of  modi  Vivendi  for  the  sake  of  appear 
ances  or  of  the  children  or  of  some  other  external  force  or 
bogey  forbidding  divorce.  Even  marriages  that  pass 
for  happy  are  often  of  some  one  of  these  makeshift  vari 
eties.  Because  a  conventional  couple,  blunt  of  nerves 
and  unanalytic,  and  undisturbed  by  serious  temptation 
to  wander,  regard  themselves  and  are  regarded  as  suc 
cessfully  married,  it  by  no  means  follows  that  they  are. 
Disease  is  not  always  accompanied  by  pain ;  some  of  the 
very  worst  diseases — those  of  steady,  relentless  decay, 
for  instance — are  painless.  The  disease  in  the  married 
life  of  Murdock  and  Sophy  had  passed  from  the  acute 
stage  to  the  chronic.  And  tKey,  and  their  children, 
thought  it  cured. 

Toward  the  winter's  end,  when  the  time  came  for  the 
journey  to  New  York  to  assemble  the  trousseau,  Mrs. 
Murdock's  courage  failed  her.  "  You'll  have  to  go  by 
yourself  and  stop  with  Joe's  sister,  after  all,"  said  she 
to  Norma.  "  I  haven't  the  strength.  It'd  kill  me.  I've 
worked  and  slaved  too  hard.  Now,  I've  got  to  pay 
for  it." 

"  Stuff,  mother,  stuff!  "  protested  Charley,  home  for 
112 


DANGERFIELD'S 


the  Easter  holidays.  "  It'll  do  you  a  world  of  good — 
and  you  needn't  set  foot  on  the  ground." 

"  I  must  stay  here  and  look  after  things.  With 
my  neuralgia  and  this  big  house  on  my  hands " 

"  Norma'd  be  miserable  at  Mrs.  Houghton's,"  pur 
sued  Charley.  In  a  moment  of  extreme  irritation  Norma 
had  confided  to  him  her  antipathy  for  Joe's  artificial, 
supercilious  New  York  sister,  who  was  chagrined  by 
her  brother's  choice  of  a  wife  remote  from  "  the  only 
people  worth  while,"  and  did  not  trouble  herself  to  con 
ceal  her  chagrin. 

"  No,  I  sha'n't  mind  her,"  hastily  interposed  Norma. 
"  Really,  I  sha'n't."  Love  had  softened  her  uncompro 
mising  arrogance  and  egotism  of  youth  into  sweetness 
and  consideration  and  even  conciliation.  "  I  know  she 
doesn't  approve  of  me  at  all.  But  she's  got  tact.  For 
two  or  three  weeks  we'll  get  on  like  turtledoves." 

In  the  bottom  of  her  heart  she  was  relieved  that  her 
mother  was  not  going.  A  woman  who  knows  how  to 
shop  dislikes  having  anyone  along.  Important  work, 
to  be  done  well,  must  be  done  alone ;  and  in  such  delicate 
matters  as  style,  taste,  bargaining,  the  presence  of  an 
other  causes  confusion  and  indecision,  raises  the  prices, 
strengthens  the  hands  of  the  shop  people  in  forcing  on 
a  woman  things  she  does  not  quite  like  and  will  ever 
afterward  hate.  Mrs.  Murdock  was  a  particularly  try 
ing  person  on  a  shopping  expedition.  The  clerks  always 
at  once  "  sized  her  up,"  flattered  her  into  accepting  the 
goods  they  were  most  eager  to  be  rid  of,  at  prices  of 
their  own  fixing. 

As  Murdock  was  in  Nevada,  looking  at  mines,  Norma 
went  East  with  only  her  maid,  found  Mrs.  Houghton 
sweetly  amiable,  and  pursued  her  shopping  alone  and 
unmolested.  When  her  father  turned  up  in  New  York, 

113 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

on  one  of  his  frequent  business  trips,  she  breakfasted 
with  him  at  his  hotel.  He  seemed  a  different  person  in 
New  York,  more  as  he  used  to  be  when  playing  with 
her  was  his  only  relaxation.  "  I'm  going  to  break  my 
rule,"  said  she,  "  and  take  you  shopping  with  me." 

"  Quite  unnecessary,"  replied  he.  "  No  matter  what 
it  is,  you  shall  have  it.  Go  right  ahead." 

"  You're  too  suspicious,"  retorted  Norma.  "  I  sim 
ply  want  you  to  see  a  shop  that's  worth  while — some 
thing  quite  new — and  very  interesting.  It's  Danger- 
field's." 

"  Dangerfield?  " 

"  Dresses  and  hats." 

Murdock  laughed,  shook  his  head  vigorously.  "  Not 
I!" 

But  bis  daughter  persisted.  "  It's  much  stranger 
and  more  interesting — especially  to  a  man — than  that 
lunatic  Stock  Exchange  you  took  me  to  last  time  we  were 
here.  Lots  of  men  go.  Really,  father — "  She  hesi 
tated  and  smiled  as  she  used  the  age-suggesting  word 
in  connection  with  a  man  who  was  so  young  in  every 
way —  "  I'd  not  ask  you  if  it  weren't  worth  while." 

Norma  was  pretty,  was  charmingly  dressed;  when 
with  her,  he  felt  less  lonely,  less  restless.  He  yielded. 
He  forgot  his  reluctance  as  they  descended  before  the 
Holland  brick  and  marble  palace  just  off  Fifth  Ave 
nue,  in  every  way  like  a  private  house.  As  the  great 
door  was  swung  back  by  the  big  colored  man  in  livery, 
Murdock  asked  her:  "Who  is  Dangerfield?" 

"  It's  merely  an  old  trade  name,  I  believe.  There's 
no  Dangerfield.  The  business  is  run  by  a  stock  com 
pany." 

They  were  at  the  foot  of  a  marble  staircase  guarded 
by  two  colossal  bronzes,  female  figures  bearing  aloft  elec- 


DANGEBFIELD'S 


trie-light  globes.  To  the  left  was  a  reception  room,  to 
the  right  a  tea  room.  "  This  looks  as  if  we  had  got  into 
somebody's  residence  by  mistake,"  said  Murdock. 
"  Where's  the  business?  " 

"  Come  along,"  replied  Norma,  starting  up  the 
stairs.  "  It's  here,  all  right.  We're  early.  Nobody 
but  me  ever  comes  before  eleven  or  half  past.  Besides, 
the  season's  almost  over." 

The  stairway  branched  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 
meeting  again  at  the  second-floor  landing  to  form  a  bal 
cony.  There,  a  fountain  was  tossing  high  a  tinkling 
spray  from  the  midst  of  flowers ;  and  festoons  of  flowers 
hung  over  the  balustrade.  Murdock  followed  his  daugh 
ter  to  the  right  into  a  salon  with  pillars  of  variegated 
marble,  superb  tapestries  to  match,  several — neither  too 
many  nor  too  few — large  pieces  of  simple  furniture. 
The  central  oval  of  the  ceiling  was  a  fresco  representing 
Minerva,  goddess  of  wisdom,  smiling  round  the  edge  of  a 
folly  mask.  They  crossed  this  salon  to  the  correspond 
ing  room  to  the  left ;  in  its  doorway  they  got  the  first 
glimpse  of  Dangerfield  as  a  business  establishment.  On 
tables,  benches,  chairs,  sofas  were  flung  in  gorgeous  pro 
fusion  dresses  and  dress  materials,  cascades  and  rivulets 
and  pools  of  soft  color.  Beyond,  Murdock  saw  a  similar 
room  that  in  vista  gave  the  effect  of  a  conservatory 
filled  with  birds  and  flowers  of  every  hue.  "  Hats,"  ex 
plained  Norma.  "  There  is  still  another  salon  for  the 
millinery  department.  It's  on  the  floor  above,  where  the 
fitting  salons  are." 

"  No  wonder  you  women  are  so  eager  to  get  hold 
of  money  and  spend  it,"  said  Murdock.  "  I'm  amazed 
at  your  moderation." 

Moving  about  the  room  at  whose  threshold  they 
stood  were  a  dozen  girls.  Murdock  saw  that  there  was 

115 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

not  a  homely  one  among  them.  "  I'm  willing  to  bet 
anything  you  like  that  the  boss  here  is  a  man — and  that 
he  isn't  married." 

"  You  lose,"  said  Norma.     "  It's  a  woman." 

"  Then  she  must  be  young  and  pretty — and  gener 
ous." 

"  Indeed  she  is,"  assented  Norma,  with  enthusiasm. 

His  wandering  glance  went  from  face  and  figure  to 
face  and  figure  until  it  lit  and  paused  fascinated  upon 
a  woman  on  a  stepladder,  delving  into  a  big  box  of  rib 
bons.  Her  long,  supple  back  was  toward  him ;  he  was  as 
little  the  expert  in  woman's  dress  as  the  average  Amer 
ican  man,  yet  he  noted  her  beautiful  simple  morning 
dress  of  dark-green  cloth,  with  hat  and  stockings  and 
shoes  to  match — one  of  those  unobtrusive  costumes  whose 
costly  perfection  shows  in  its  being  unobtrusive  and  in 
the  surprises  of  pleasures  its  intelligent  and  elegant 
details  yield  to  the  critical  eye.  Murdock  did  not  note 
those  details,  but  he  appreciated  them;  any  spectator 
must  take  pleasure  in  a  work  of  real  art,  however  un 
conscious  he  may  be  of  the  source  of  his  pleasure,  the 
thousand  trifles  which,  as  Michelangelo  said,  sum  up 
into  perfection.  Some  details,  however,  he  did  conscious 
ly  note — the  fit  of  her  shoes  and  their  neatness,  especially 
about  the  heels — that  her  skirt  was  straight,  even  all 
round,  at  .the  hem — how  thick  and  crisp  and  clean  her 
hair  was,  and  how  beautifully  arranged  at  the  back,  the 
clear-cut  simplicity  of  the  lines  of  waist  and  hips. 
"  There's  a  woman  who  takes  the  right  sort  of  care  of 
herself,"  he  said  to  himself  with  absolute  positiveness, 
though  he  had  only  her  back  to  judge  by. 

"  She's  the  head  of  the  establishment,"  said  Norma 
in  an  undertone,  her  gaze  where  his  was,  "  but  she  works 
just  like  the  rest.  I  think  she's  the  cleverest  woman  I 

116 


DANGERFIELD'S 


ever  met  in  my  life.  The  girls  say  she's  rich  and  that 
she  made  it  all  herself.  Yet  she's  still  very  young." 
Norma  sighed;  she  had  had  her  own  dreams  of  inde 
pendent  accomplishment.  "  There's  a  barrel  of  money  in 
millinery  and  dressmaking,  if  one  can  get  and  keep  the 
right  people." 

The  young  woman  turned  to  descend.  She  smiled  at 
Norma ;  then  her  glance,  keen,  quick,  traveled  on  to  Mur- 
dock.  Norma  saw  the  strangest  look  flash  into  her  won 
derfully  expressive  gray  eyes — a  look  of  shyness  and 
joy  and  fear — saw  the  color  leave  her  cheeks,  her  lips 
even.  This  for  an  instant  only.  She  descended,  ad 
vanced  with  extended  hand.  "  Good  morning,"  said  she 
to  Norma.  "  So,  you've  brought  your  father  with  you." 

Norma  laughed.  "  How  did  you  know  ?  "  cried  she. 
"  I  thought  you'd  think  he  was  my — my  brother." 

At  this  Miss  Raeburn's  expression  became  so  peculiar 
that  Norma  glanced  at  Murdock.  His  scarlet  face,  his 
uncertain  eyes,  his  nervous  attempts  to  readjust  the 
line  of  his  lips,  made  her  turn  quickly  upon  Miss  Raeburn 
again.  Then  she  stammered,  "  Oh,  it  was  you  father 
and  Charles  met  out  West!  I  never  thought  of  it  be 
fore."  And  so  confused  was  she  that  not  until  afterwards 
did  she  wonder  how  she  had  happened  to  think  of  it  then 
— just  then. 

"  Yes,"  said  Murdock,  a  notable  rigidity  in  his  tone 
and  manner. 

Miss  Raeburn  extended  her  hand.  At  the  touch  of 
her  fingers  upon  his  palm,  his  eyes  contracted  and  his 
lips  compressed.  "How  is  your  son?"  she  asked,  but 
did  not  look  at  him. 

"  Why  didn't  you  speak  of  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Norma, 
struggling  with  constraint  and  embarrassment.  "  You 
saved  Charley's  life." 

117 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  You  mean,  I  did  him  out  of  his  first  grizzly." 

"  You  might  have  told  me !  " 

"  Your  father  will  explain  to  you  why  that  would 
have  been  against  sound  business  principles.  If  you'll 
wait  in  the  salon  a  moment,  I'll  send  some  one  to  take 
you  up  to  the  fitters."  And  Miss  Raeburn  nodded  and 
smiled,  her  manner  perfect,  but  in  her  dark-gray  eyes 
a  look  that  roused  in  Norma  a  feeling  of  suspense  and 
— yes — of  dread.  She  turned  away,  gave  several  orders 
to  as  many  girls,  disappeared  into  the  millinery  depart- 
ment. 

Norma  and  Murdock  retreated  to  the  main  salon  and 
seated  themselves.  Norma,  coming  out  of  a  deep  study; 
in  which  she  had  been  fitting  certain  scattered  fragments 
of  memory  to  what  she  had  just  seen,  ventured  a  curi 
ously  timid  glance  at  him.  He  was  gazing  tranquilly 
into  space,  with  the  far-away  look  characteristic  of  men 
of  thought  and  action,  even  when  engrossed  in  what  is 
going  on  immediately  round  them.  The  average  man, 
an  observer  of  surfaces  only,  looks  as  if  he  were  seeing 
surfaces ;  the  rare  man  looks  as  if  he  were  penetrating 
through  surfaces  into  realities — he  looks  not  only  at  but 
through.  As  the  girl  was  eagerly  seeking  reassurance 
from  the  ideas  her  intelligence  had  been  forcing  upon  her 
against  the  protests  of  her  loyal  heart,  she  hastened  to 
find  it,  though  in  fact  his  features  expressed  simply  in 
scrutable  calm.  There  are  many,  older  and  more  experi 
enced  than  Norma,  who  fancy  that  surfaces  are  truth 
ful  sign  boards ;  most  of  us,  all  our  lives  through,  accept 
a  facial  expression  or  a  spoken  word,  even  from  an  oft- 
convicted  practitioner  of  indirection,  at  its  full  seeming 
value.  Norma  was  completely  reassured  by  Murdock's 
unruffled  tranquillity. 

"  How  queer  Miss  Raeburn  acted !  "  said  she.; 
118 


DANGERFIELD'S 


"  Yes  ?  "  absently  from  Murdock,  when  it  was  ob- 
yious  that  she  was  waiting  for  a  reply. 

"  So,  your  and  Charley's  spirit  of  the  wilderness  is 
a  New  York  dressmaker.  How  Charley  will  feel!  I 
know  he  suspected  she  was  a  Russian  grand  duchess 
incog." 

No  comment  from  Murdock;  no  indication  that  he 
heard. 

"  Well,  she  certainly  is  beautiful,  and  in  such  an  un 
usual,  strange  way.  And  did  you  ever  see  any  human 
being  so  well  taken  care  of?  She's  perfect  throughout 
— and  not  a  bit  stiff  or  set,  either.  That's  the  differ 
ence  between  the  well-got-up  lady  and  the  well-got-up 
not-lady.  Oh,  she's  the  real  thing." 

Nothing  from  Murdock. 

"  No  wonder  even  Charley,  who  never  sees  anything, 
noticed  her  eyes,"  she  went  on.  "  But,  then,  she's  unu 
sual,  through  and  through.  All  the  girls  here  worship 
her,  and  at  the  same  time  they're  afraid  of  her — afraid 
of  her  criticisms — that's  all.  They  say  she's  always 
gentle  and  polite." 

Miss  Raeburn  was  the  last  subject  Norma  wished 
in  instinctive  prudence  to  talk  about.  But  she  was 
upset,  hysterical,  and  her  tongue  ran  on :  "  She's  of  a 
good  family  in  the  western  part  of  the  State.  Her 
father  died;  she  took  her  share  of  the  estate,  came  to 
New  York.  That  was  less  than  ten  years  ago.  She 
comes  in  a  grand  auto  every  morning  exactly  at  nine 
and  doesn't  leave  until  half  past  six.  She  built  this 
place  last  year — designed  it  throughout,  with  a  little 
aid  from  a  friend  of  hers — a  woman  architect  named 
Siersdorf." 

"  I've  heard  of  her,"  said  Murdock. 

Norma,  disconcerted  by  this  evidence  that  he  was 
119 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

listening,  and  listening  attentively,  again  tried  to  stop 
herself.  But  she  felt  excited,  felt  she  must  talk,  and  on 
she  went,  at  the  only  subject  about  which  any  thoughts 
would  come.  "  She — Miss  Raeburn,  I  mean — has  a  won 
derful  little  house  overlooking  the  park.  She  doesn't 
seem  to  have  any  social  life,  or  to  want  any.  I  guess 
her  real  life  is  too  full  for  social  friends — they're  great 
time-wasters.  Sometimes  I  think,  that's  about  all  they 
are — taking  one's  time  and  feeling  one  for  favors.  She's 
got  an  old  maid  sister  who  lives  with  her — and — and 
that's  all  anybody  seems  to  know." 

"  Probably  all  there  is  to  know,"  said  Murdock.  "  I 
must  get  downtown.  See  you  at  dinner." 

He  put  on  his  gloves,  took  his  hat  and  stick,  rose, 
all  with  his  wonted  languid  deliberation — that  manner 
led  his  fellow  beings  far  away  from  suspicion  of  the 
fiery,  inflexible  nature  beneath.  Norma  was  watching 
him  closely.  She  found  nothing  unusual  in  his  expres 
sion,  nothing  to  justify  her  feeling  of  impending  catas 
trophe.  Still,  she  could  not  banish  it ;  and,  as  he  went, 
she  looked  after  him  and  fought  against  an  impulse  to  go 
with  him. 

As  he  slowly  descended  the  main  stairway,  a  white 
mahogany  door  to  the  left  of  the  entrance  suddenly 
swung  open.  Miss  Raeburn  herself  issued  from  the 
office — for  it  was  her  office — and  began  a  hurried  ascent. 
He  paused.  She  did  not  see  him  until  she  was  within 
a  few  steps  of  him.  She  hesitated;  two  spots  of  color 
burned  for  an  instant  in  her  cheeks.  Then,  with  an  in 
clination  of  the  head  that  might  have  been  an  avoidance 
of  his  gaze  or  might  have  been  a  bow,  she  was  hasten 
ing  on. 

"  Can't  you  give  me  one  moment — after  all  these 
months  ?  "  he  said.  His  tone  of  almost  humble  entreaty] 

120 


DANGERFIELD'S 


sounded  strangely  in  his  own  ears ;  for  they  had  never 
heard  it  before. 

She  came  to  a  full  stop,  and  with  eyes  down  stood 
waiting.  Her  figure  was  of  the  kind  called  French — the 
firm,  small,  swelling  bust,  the  slender  neck  and  arms  and 
hips — a  figure  so  slight  that  the  strength  and  endurance 
he  had  seen  in  the  Northwest  wilds  seemed  incredible. 
Her  skin  was  pale  olive,  firm  and  delicate  and  clear.  Her 
dark  hair,  not  too  fine  to  arrange  well,  had  the  sheen  and 
the  waviness  that  mean  vitality.  As  she  stood  there 
without  motion,  not  even  her  bosom  responding  to  her 
breath,  she  was  in  manner  the  direct  opposite  of  her  usual 
self — of  the  woman  he  had  known  in  the  woods.  For  re 
pose  was  as  foreign  to  that  woman  as  to  a  humming  bird 
in  a  flowering  garden ;  her  movements  were  habitually 
quick,  almost  impatient,  and,  as  he  well  remembered,  her 
restless  gaze  searched  her  surroundings  incessantly  as  if 
she  were  seeking  something  which  must  be  found,  and 
found  speedily ;  when  she  greeted  anyone,  it  had  been 
with  the  darting  glance  of  the  ardent  temperament,  con 
scious  of  the  brevity  of  life  and  eager  for  its  joys — 
the  glance  that  seems  to  say,  "  Is  it  you  I've  been 
seeking?  " 

He  gazed  at  her  silently,  drinking  her  in.  At  last 
her  eyelids  fluttered  and  her  eyes  rose ;  but  they  avoided 
his  face.  "  I'm  sailing  in  the  morning,"  said  she,  her 
voice  even  but  suggesting  a  ferment  deep  down.  "  I'm 
extremely  busy,  and " 

"  Juliet,"  he  interposed  in  that  calm  slow  way  of  his 
that  could  yet  be  so  intense  and  inevitable,  "  it  wasn't 
our  fault — the  beginning.  The  very  day  I  realized,  I 
had  Charley  tell  you  about  me.  And  I've  tried — hon 
estly.  We've  both  tried.  It's  folly— useless,  too.  That 
month  of  happiness — it  was  a  prophecy — a  foretaste — 
9  121 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Now  that  I've  found  you  again,  I'll  not  go  on  without 
you!" 

She  trembled,  paled,  leaned  against  the  balustrade. 
Her  bosom  was  no  longer  still. 

"  You  can't  deny.  A  while  ago — on  the  ladder — 
when  you  turned — Juliet,  I  saw !  " 

Her  eyes  suddenly  blazed  upon  him,  made  him  shrink. 
"  Forgive  me,"  he  muttered.  "  If  you  knew — if  you 
knew!" 

Her  look  softened.  "  Murdock,"  she  said  with  gen 
tleness — it  was  the  name  by  which  she  had  called  him 
toward  the  last  in  their  comradeship  of  the  wilderness, 
and  at  the  sound  of  it  his  head  lifted  and  his  gray-blue 
eyes  lighted  up — "  Murdock,  you  know  we  have  nothing 
to  say  to  each  other  that  can  be  said.  Nothing  you 
ought  to  say  or  I  ought  to  hear."  She  extended  her 
hand ;  and  her  eyes,  sweet  as  her  tone,  were  also  as  reso 
lute.  "Good-by." 

He  took  her  hand,  let  her  draw  it  quickly  away.  He 
made  no  effort  to  detain  her  as  she  fled  up  the  stairway 
and  was  gone,  light  and  swift  as  those  beautiful  birds 
of  the  wilderness  they  both  loved. 


VIII 


VIOLA 

NORMA  brought  to  dinner  next  evening  the  news 
that  Miss  Raeburn  had  sailed.  "  I  didn't  see  her  again, 
but  she  left  a  very  friendly  good-by  for  me  with  Miss 
Wilmot."  Norma  smiled  mischievously.  "  Nothing 
for  you  or  Charley." 

Murdock  forced  a  smile,  returned  to  the  gloom  in 
which  she  had  found  him.  In  the  moods  of  men  and 
women  about  each  other  reason  plays  no  part.  All 
that  day  he  had  been  embittered  against  Juliet  Rae 
burn  and  contemptuous  of  the  first  emotions  her  re 
fusal  to  listen  to  him  had  inspired.  Few  men — and 
fewer  women — appreciate  that  woman  has  value  as 
woman  greater  than  her  appeal  to  the  senses,  that  the 
feminine  can  satisfy  a  need  deeper  than  passion's  gusty 
clamor.  The  dim  realization  of  this  truth  which  Juliet 
Raeburn  had  for  the  moment  roused  in  Murdock  soon 
waned  before  passion ;  for,  man  being  primarily  an  ani 
mal,  appetites,  so  long  as  they  are  unappeased,  will 
take  precedence  over  aspirations.  In  the  sharp  and 
cynical  reaction,  he  felt  that  she  tricked  him  with  well- 
sounding  words  when  he  had  so  sorely  needed  bread — 
had  even  humbled  himself  to  beg  for  it!  Up  rose  his 
pride  of  the  master  man  and  exhibited  its  wound. 
Their  destiny  should  have  been  for  him  to  decide;  how 
fatuously  he  had  helped  her  to  mount  a  pedestal  of 

123 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

conventional  morality,  and  had  fallen  down  and  wor 
shiped — "  like  a  jackass  of  a  Tom  Berkeley,  with  his 
pale,  cold  Florence."  How  meekly  he  had  yielded  to 
her;  had  let  her  take  control,  choose  her  own  part, 
assign  him  his!  Why,  the  meekest  in  the  docile  hu 
man  herds  he  regarded  with  good-humored  pity  and 
contempt,  would  have  made  at  least  a  bleat  of  protest. 
And  he  had  not  even  thought  of  bleating! 

He  brooded  throughout  dinner,  drove  Norma  to 
the  Houghtons  in  somber  silence.  On  the  way  back 
to  the  hotel  alone  he  suddenly  burst  out :  "  She  has 
conquered  me !  I  have  no  power  over  her — none !  " 
Judging  himself  and  her  by  the  standards  that  had 
been  his  in  all  his  active  years,  he  felt  her  despising 
him — "  and  I  deserve  it.  I  let  her  make  a  fool  of  me." 
Was  she  not  captor?  Was  he  not  captive,  bent 
to  the  dust  before  her  under  the  chains  of  desire? 
"  No  woman  really  wants  to  win,  wants  the  man 
to  lose,  in  that  sort  of  contest.  If  he  lets  her  win, 
she  thinks  he's  even  weaker  than  she — and  so  he  is, 
by  God!" 

As  he  stood  at  the  elevators,  about  to  ascend  to  his 
rooms,  Berkeley  and  his  wife  came  up.  "  Ah,  there 
you  are!  "  cried  Berkeley.  "  I  was  just  getting  ready 
to  hunt  for  you.  .  .  .  Florence,  go  to  the  apartment. 
Charles  and  I  must  finish  our  business  to-night."  He 
winked  covertly  at  Murdock. 

Murdock  glanced  from  the  husband  to  the  wife  and 
back  again.  Berkeley's  full,  thick  face  was  a  not  un 
attractive  though  frank  exhibit  of  the  easy-going 
sensuality  that  takes  life  in  huge  draughts,  careless  of 
quality  so  long  as  there  is  quantity.  Florence,  on  the 
other  hand,  had — so  it  seemed  to  him,  in  the  vividness 
of  face-by-face  contrast — the  expression  that  comes 


VIOLA 


from  finer,  more  discriminating  tastes,  from  living  in 
the  intellect  rather  than  in  the  body.  To  him,  read 
ing  coldness  into  her  blondness,  she  had  always  been  a 
typical  instance  of  the  sort  of  woman  all  men  approve, 
most  men  like  to  have  for  wife,  but  no  man  dares  or 
cares  passionately  to  love.  Berkeley  could  not  pos 
sibly  feel  at  home  with  her.  Murdock  wondered  how 
he  had  ever  got  near  enough  to  her  to  become  engaged, 
to  marry. 

"  Here's  a  car,  Florence,  my  dear,"  said  Berkeley- 

Her  lips  smiled  at  Murdock,  as  he  and  she  shook 
hands,  but  her  eyes  shot  scorn  and  disapproval. 

"  Wait  till  to-morrow,  Tom,"  said  Murdock,  "  I'ra 
tired." 

"  No,  to-night,"  insisted  Berkeley.  And,  as  he  hur 
ried  his  wife  into  the  car,  "  Don't  stay  up  for  me,  my; 
dear." 

"I  sha'n't,"  replied  she  curtly,  her  contemptuous, 
coldly  disapproving  eyes  on  Murdock. 

As  the  car  vanished  upward,  Berkeley  gave  a  huge 
sigh  of  relief.  "  Now !  "  said  he. 

"Now— what?" 

"  I'm  the  bad  boy — and  it's  recess.  .  .  .  Handsome 
woman,  my  wife,  isn't  she?" 

"  Very." 

Berkeley  chuckled.  "  It's  a  fine  thing  to  have  a 
wife  that  everybody  regards  as  the  model  of  just  what 
a  wife  should  be.  But —  It's  a  fine  thing  to  live  in  a 
grand  palace — high  ceilings,  big  rooms,  huge  halls — 
a  fine  thing  from  the  standpoint  of  other  people,  but 
beastly  cold  and  draughty  and  cheerless  for  the  man 
that  lives  there — "  Tom  chuckled  again —  "  if  he  is 
damn  fool  enough  really  to  live  there,  and  doesn't  have 
another  place  where  he's  comfortable — and  at  home." 

125 


OLD   WIVES   FOB   NEW 

There  Tom  winked  at  Murdock  and  burst  out  laugh 
ing. 

They  went  to  the  cafe,  and  Berkeley  mused  and 
smiled  over  a  cordial.  "  Cheer  up ! "  he  finally  said  to 
Murdock.  "  You're  coming  with  me.  I've  a  date. 
I'd  told  her  I  had  to  see  you." 

"  She  knows  better." 

"  Certainly.  She  knows  me  to  a  T — she  does.  But 
things  must  be  kept  smooth."  He  laughed.  6i  Queer, 
isn't  it?  She  doesn't  want  me  about.  I  bore  her  even 
more  than  she  bores  me.  Yet  it  irritates  her  to  have 
me  amuse  myself.  I'm  sorry,  but  I  can't  oblige  her. 
Every  time  I  think  what  a  long  time  dead  I'll  be,  I 
get  a  move  on." 

"  You're  riding  straight  for  a  nasty  scandal." 

Berkeley  gave  an  indifferent  shrug.  "  I'm  riding 
straight  to  amuse  myself.  She'll  keep  out  of  my 
path  " — a  wicked  smile  peered  round  the  edge  of  his 
jovial  mask,  and  vanished —  "  She  don't  want  to  be 
run  over.  I  respect  her,  I'm  glad  she's  my  wife;  she's 
welcome  to  anything  money'll  buy.  But  not  me,  old 
man — not  by  a  damn  sight!  I  have  some  say  about 
myself.  As  a  free  American  citizen,  I've  got  my  con 
stitutional  rights — to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness." 

"And  her  rights?" 

"  Of  course."  Berkeley  waved  his  hand  gener 
ously.  "  Don't  she  assert  them — all  the  rights  she's 
got?  When  a  woman  and  a  man  marry,  the  man 
agrees  to  support  her  and  their  offspring,  and  in  ex 
change  for  that  she  agrees  to — behave  herself.  A 
woman's  virtue  is  all  there  is  to  her,  so  far  as  mar 
riage  is  concerned.  .  .  .  Do  I  ever  bother  about  mar 
ried  women?  No,  indeed,  I  pay  for  what  I  get;  I 

126 


VIOLA 


despise  a  man  that  takes  what  another  man's  paying 
for.  And  a  woman  that  cheats  ain't  fit  to  live.  That's 
good,  business  man's  honor,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Murdock  simply  looked  at  him.  Berkeley's  way  of 
stating  the  case  revolted  him.  Yet,  he  could  not  dis 
pute  that  it  seemed  to  fit  the  facts  of  life.  "  I'm  a  fool 
of  a  sentimentalist,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  ought  to 
be  learning  sense,  after  what  my  nonsense  has  just  cost 
me." 

Berkeley  paid  for  the  drinks.  "  We  must  go," 
said  he.  "  There'll  be  somebody  for  you.  Those  kind 
of  girls  always  ring  in  an  extra  or  so,  when  they've 
got  a  free  spender  on  the  string.  And  I  don't  care 
what  it  costs,  so  long  as  I  have  a  good  time.  Cheer 
up,  old  man!  Don't  look  as  if  you'd  lost  the  only 
girl  you  ever  loved." 

Murdock  bit  his  lip.  The  arrow  stung,  and  the 
fact  that  such  an  arrow  from  such  a  source  should 
sting  made  him  despise  himself. 

"  The  peach  crop's  always  good  and  always  ripe 
in  little  old  New  York,  as  the  song  says.  Come 
on!" 

"  No,"  said  Murdock.  His  tone  was  final — from 
habit  of  refusing  such  invitations.  But  he  was  hesi 
tating;  to  be  alone  meant  to  be  prey  to  the  pain  that 
was  eating  at  him  like  a  fire — the  pain  of  baffled  desire. 
"Why  not?"  he  said  to  himself.  Perhaps  he  would 
find  some  consolation,  a  quietus,  for  this  passion  that 
was  challenging  his  self-mastery.  "  Why  not  ?  "  he 
repeated,  defiantly,  galled  that  anyone  should  seem  to 
have  dominion  over  him. 

"  Come  on,  old  man,"  urged  Berkeley.  "  The  trou 
ble  with  you  is  that  you  concentrate  too  much.  Re 
lax  !  Relax !  God,  it'd  be  hard  on  you,  if  you  ever  got 

127 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

the  one-woman  bee  in  your  bonnet.  You'd  go,  hell 
bent." 

Murdock's  involuntary  straightening  and  smile  of 
defiance  betrayed  the  boyishness  which  the  man  who 
has  always  had  his  own  way  never  loses  and,  in  certain 
moods,  falls  easy  victim  to. 

"  Now,  I —  A  man  that  takes  women  seriously  is 
a  damn  fool,  and  nobody  knows  it  better  than  they  do. 
I  never  yet  saw  the  woman  with  any  experience  who 
didn't  despise  the  man  that  took  her  seriously.  Of 
course,  they  like  it.  Who  doesn't  like  it  when  some 
body,  anybody,  falls  flat  and  says,  *  For  God's  sake, 
walk  on  me ! '  But  they  despise  the  man  and  keep 
themselves  for  the  chap  that  treats  'em  like  the  dirt 
under  his  feet.  Come  along,  Murdock.  You  can  leave 
if  you  don't  like  it." 

Yes,  he  must  make  an  outlet  for  the  flood  menacing 
him  with  destruction.  "  I  will  not  play  the  fool  for 
her!"  he  muttered.  Then  aloud,  "Very  well.  Let's 
be  off." 

"  Good  business,"  cried  Berkeley,  starting  up 
briskly.  "  Gad,  what  a  swell  you  look !  "  This  with  an 
admiring  glance  at  Murdock's  simple,  beautiful  pearls 
and  well-cut  waistcoat  and  collar.  Even  his  sable  over 
coat  seemed  finer  and  more  elegant  than  Berkeley's, 
though,  in  fact,  it  had  cost  a  good  many  thousands 
less. 

"  There's  nothing  slow  about  you,  Tom,"  replied 
Murdock. 

"  Not  bad,  are  they?  "  said  Berkeley,  gazing  com 
placently  at  his  diamond-set  studs  and  waistcoat  but 
tons  before  he  closed  his  ostentatious  coat  over  them. 
"  It  may  be  vulgar,  but,  damn  it,  I  do  like  shiners. 
Pearls  are  more  your  style.  Old  fellows  like  me  have 

128 


VIOLA 


to  have  something  that  will  dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  girls 
when  they  try  to  look  at  our  hollows  and  creases." 

Berkeley's     electric     brougham    rushed     them    up 
Broadway,   bright   from   its   hundreds    of   illuminated 
signs    and    show   windows,   but   with   sidewalks    swept 
clean  of  the  usual  throngs  by  a  wind  straight  and  stiff  ^ 
from   the  north  and  cyclonic   in   that  canon   of   sky-  ' 
scrapers.     The  brougham  was  tight  closed,  and  Berke 
ley   and   Murdock  were   in   fur  to   the   chin;  but  the 
dampness  in  the  wind  penetrated  to  the  very  bones. 

"God,  this  is  fierce,"  grumbled  Berkeley.  "But 
it's  heaven  beside  the  South  en  famille,  or  the  stupor 
out  home.  I'd  rather  be  a  beggar  in  the  Tenderloin 
than  a  billionaire  in  the  backwoods.  Why,  as  I  lie 
in  bed  here,  I  say  to  myself,  '  The  show's  still  on.  You 
could  join  any  minute.'  And  out  where  we  come  from, 
nothing  but  the  moaning  in  the  trees  and  dull  people 
doddering  over  stale  gossip."  Tom  half  turned,  laid 
his  hand  on  Murdock's  arm,  and  with  a  sudden  change 
to  serious,  said :  "  Don't  misunderstand  me,  Murdock. 
I'm  all  for  the  home  and  purity — in  its  proper  place. 
I've  got  a  strong  sense  of  my  duty  to  society." 

"  Overpowering,"  said  Murdock. 

"  I  mean  it.  I've  no  patience  with  these  men  that 
take  duty  flippantly  and  get  divorces.  I  tell  you,  a 
man  that  gets  a  divorce  from  his  wife  to  marry  some 
other  woman  is  an  enemy  to  religion  and  society." 

"Really?" 

"  Yes,  sir — -it's  immoral.  That's  real  immorality. 
Let  him  have  his  fling — that's  nature.  But  if  he's  a 
decent  man,  he'll  not  bring  marriage  and  the  home  in 
disrepute  by  divorce." 

"  Where  are  you  taking  me  ?  "  demanded  Murdock, 
irritated  by  these  views,  and  chilled  out  of  conceit  with 

129 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW, 

an  adventure  that  now  seemed  to  him  more  worthy  of 
college  boys  than  of  men. 

"  Right  here,"  said  Berkeley. 

The  brougham  was  swinging  in  to  the  curb.  The 
big  carriage  opener — a  huge  button-plastered  coat  and 
vast  fur  collar  and  cockaded  top  hat — caught  a 
glimpse  of  Berkeley's  face.  "  Out  of  the  way,  there !  " 
he  shouted  at  the  drivers  of  the  line  of  vehicles,  as  he 
rushed  to  the  curb,  and  "  Don't  block  the  sidewalk !  " 
to  a  group  of  loungers.  With  a  pompous  flourish  he 
opened  the  brougham  and  made  a  low  bow.  "  All  right, 
Mr.  Berkeley !  "  cried  he. 

"  You,  first,"  said  Berkeley  to  Murdock.  He  had 
a  dollar  ready  for  the  man  who  was  giving  him  such 
a  conspicuous  reception;  he  was  not  concealing  his 
pleasure  at  being  thus  acclaimed. 

"  Do  you  want  your  electric  to  wait,  Mr.  Berke 
ley  ?  "  asked  the  carriage  caller. 

Berkeley  nodded  assent.  "  We  may  want  to  go  a 
little  farther  uptown,  after  a  while,"  he  explained  to 
Murdock. 

They  pushed  in  at  the  revolving  door,  into  the 
anteroom,  crowded  with  men  and  women  in  evening 
dress,  some  putting  on,  others  divesting  themselves  of 
wraps — coats  and  cloaks  of  silver  fox  and  ermine  and 
sable,  real  and  imitation,  wraps  of  silk  and  thick  soft 
cloth,  white,  silver,  delicate  shades  of  blue  and  dove 
and  pink.  The  women  were  wearing  great  plumed  hats 
and  much  jewelry.  From  the  main  room  came  the  joy 
ous  beat  of  a  popular  air;  there  were  odors  of  strong 
perfumes,  of  wine,  of  fine  tobacco.  There  was  much 
laughter,  a  taking  shimmer  of  bright  eyes,  of  dazzling 
teeth  framed  in  pretty  lips  ready,  eager  for  kisses; 
a  stimulating  exhibit  of  well-shaped,  well-cared-for 

130 


VIOLA 


bodies;  the  complexions  of  the  women  had  that  bloom 
ing  smoothness  which  comes  only  from  incessant  care. 
A  garden,  indeed;  gay,  brilliant,  inviting.  The  som- 
berness  over  Murdock's  features  lifted  somewhat, 
though  he  still  looked  gloomy  beside  the  boyish  de 
light  of  his  companion,  who  had  lost  the  last  of  his 
never  obtrusive  signs  of  sedate  man  of  family.  His 
grizzled  mustache  seemed  rakish,  his  gaze  roamed 
eagerly,  greedily,  and  he  was  breathing  deeply,  and 
sparkling  as  if  he  were  inhaling  pure  oxygen.  From 
time  to  time  the  end  of  his  long,  abrupt,  rather  pig- 
like  nose  twitched  quickly,  sensitively,  and  his  eyes 
glistened,  as  if  in  rooting  in  this  rich,  rotten  loam  he 
had  turned  up  a  truffle.  He  saw  Murdock  observing 
him,  amused  yet  envious. 

"  Now  this,"  said  he,  "  is  living !  God !  I  feel  like 
a  fat  woman  as  she  sheds  her  corsets.  Ah!  There  they 
are!" 

Down  the  stairway  before  them  were  coming  two 
young  women,  beautifully  dressed,  the  taller  in  white 
cloth,  the  shorter  in  pale  gray.  The  taller  was  curi 
ously  thin,  almost  emaciated,  yet  not  angular.  Her 
figure  seemed  to  be  moving  freely  within  her  garments, 
constantly  suggesting  itself  and  its  separateness  from 
them  and  its  desire  to  escape  them.  Murdock's  eyes 
leaped ;  there  was  a  physical  resemblance  to  Juliet  Rae- 
burn  in  this  free,  sensuous  girl — a  remote  resemblance, 
but  strong  enough  to  remind  him,  to  set  desire's  acid 
to  eating  fiercely  again. 

"  Hello,  Viola ! "  exclaimed  Berkeley,  beaming  on 
her.  "  I  hoped  you'd  be  here.  I've  brought  my 
friend,  Mr.  Murdock,  to  meet  you."  Then  he  turned 
to  the  shorter,  the  plump  girl  in  pale  gray.  With 
twitching  end  of  nose  and  twinkling  eye,  he  devoured 

131 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

her  charms  of  oval,  soft  face  and  sumptuous  figure; 
his  thick  lips  grew  moist.  "  Howdy,  Jessie,"  said  he, 
his  sensualist's  fingers  feeling  up  and  down  her  arms. 
"  You're  looking  all  to  the  good  to-night.  Let's  go 
in  to  supper." 

Jessie  smiled  at  Murdock  and  the  four  went  two 
and  two  into  the  main  room,  keeping  to  the  side  of 
the  room  where  the  perfume  was  strongest  and  the 
laughter  loudest  and  the  display  of  dresses  and  jewels 
most  extravagant.  The  other  side  was  filled  with  a 
quieter  kind  of  men  and  women,  apparently  come  as 
hungry-eyed  or  hungry-hearted  spectators  of  the  free 
and  prodigal  life  of  New  York  fashionable  "after-dark 
society."  As  the  four  sat  at  a  table  well  situated  for 
seeing  and  being  seen,  Murdock  felt  isolated.  Berke 
ley  and  the  two  women  were  busily  looking  about,  nod 
ding  to  acquaintances,  commenting  on  the  various 
celebrities,  the  men  for  the  most  part  known  to  both 
kinds  of  fashionable  society,  the  women  celebrated  in 
the  gayer  kind  or  on  the  stage  or  both.  As  soon  as 
they  seated  themselves,  a  waiter  had  brought  a  silver 
champagne  cooler  and  glasses,  had  drawn  the  cork 
and  filled  the  glasses.  Berkeley  made  everybody  drink ; 
Murdock  observed  that  he  was  himself  careful  barely 
to  touch  the  delightful  but  deadly  wine  to  his  lips. 
All  through  the  supper  he  was  urging  on  the  two 
women  to  drink,  was  compelling  it,  and  was  himself 
refraining.  This  evidence  of  calculation,  this  deliber 
ate  exploiting  of  the  beauty  and  the  vivacity  of  the 
young  women  at  the  expense  of  their  youth  and  health, 
jarred  on  Murdock's  less  selfish  nature.  It  reminded 
him  how,  in  business,  Berkeley,  always  jolly  and  equal 
with  the  men,  and  popular  with  them,  was  yet  always 
spurring  on  the  foremen  to  wring  the  last  drop  of 


VIOLA 


energy  from  their  muscles  that  there  might  be  more 
and  quicker  dollars  for  him.  Here,  in  the  same  plau 
sible  disguise  of  joviality,  was  the  same  merciless  self 
ishness,  so  profitable,  so  necessary  to  success  in  a 
society  whose  law  is  the  survival  of  the  shrewdest.  He 
was  buying  from  these  girls  their  looks  and  their 
spirits  and  their  youth,  and  he  was  exacting  the  last 
penny's  worth  of  what  he  regarded  as  his  own.  When 
they  should  be  worked  out —  Why,  the  price  he  was 
willing  to  pay  would  buy  him  more  youth  and  more 
beauty  and  more  laughter — and  all  the  time  he  was 
shrewdly  husbanding  his  own  vitality. 

"So  you've  given  your  little  friend  the  shake?" 
said  Berkeley  to  Viola. 

She  made  a  wry  face.     "  I  couldn't  bear  him." 

"  Why,  where's  all  the  jewelry?  " 

Murdock  noted  that  while  Jessie  was  festooned  with 
diamonds,  and  had  fingers  laden  with  diamonds,  pearls, 
and  rubies,  Viola  had  no  jewelry  but  an  inexpensive 
diamond  and  pearl  star  at  her  throat.  At  Berkeley's 
question,  Viola  blushed  angrily. 

Jessie  laughed.     "  That  dog !  "  exclaimed  she. 

"  You  don't  mean  he  took  his  presents  back?  "  cried 
Berkeley,  amused. 

"  Everything !  "  replied  Viola.  "  He  was  one  of 
those  cheap  skates  that  bring  the  jewels  with  'em  when 
they  come  and,  when  they  go  home,  take  'em  off,  count 
'em,  and  put  'em  in  the  box  and  carry  'em  away  again." 
Her  eyes  flashed.  "  He  used  me  as  a  show  window.  I 
never  owned  a  single  piece." 

"  Her  flat  was  in  his  name,"  Jessie  now  broke  in, 
appealing  to  Murdock's  sympathy.  "  And  all  the  fur 
niture  and  the  traps.  When  they  quarreled,  he  even 
tried  to  take  her  clothes." 

133 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  He  did  take  that  ermine  wrap,"  said  Viola. 

Suddenly  her  brows  grew  stormy,  her  bosom  heaved, 
and  her  even  teeth  small  and  sharp  dug  into  her  full 
carmine  lower  lip  until  the  blood  came.  "  There  he  is 
now !  "  exclaimed  Jessie. 

Murdock  saw  a  heavy,  flabby,  middle-aged  man, 
hairy  except  on  the  top  of  the  head  where  he  was  bald, 
advancing  with  a  girl  full  a  foot  taller  than  he.  She 
was  ablaze  and  adangle  with  jewelry.  She  had  a  mag 
nificent  figure,  a  small  head,  a  sweet  shy  face,  an  abun 
dance  of  genuinely  golden  hair.  She  walked  awk 
wardly,  and  wore  the  beautiful  clothing  and  the  jewels 
as  if  she  were  not  used  to  finery. 

"  Isn't  she  a  lummix !  "  sneered  Jessie. 

Viola  was  blazing  alternately  at  her  former  lover 
and  at  his  new  mistress.  The  girl  saw  her,  blushed, 
stumbled,  almost  fell.  The  man,  noting  Viola,  returned 
the  furious  glance  with  an  insolent  curl  of  his  bloated 
lips.  He  looked  almost  dead  from  vicious  indulgence, 
suggested  something  grown  in  a  dark  damp  place,  un 
wholesome,  perhaps  poisonous.  Murdock  shuddered  at 
the  thought  of  Viola's  young  loveliness  in  that  embrace. 
At  the  man's  sneer  Viola  half  started  from  her  chair. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Vi,"  rebuked  Jessie.  "  Don't  for 
get  you're  a  lady." 

"  I'd  like  to  tear  him  up,"  cried  Vi.  "  And  I  ought 
to  strip  those  things  off  her !  They  belong  to  me.  God 
knows  I  earned  them,  putting  up  with  that " 

She  flung  out  from  between  the  white  teeth  and  the 
fresh  lips  an  epithet  so  coarse  that  Murdock  winced. 
Berkeley  laughed.  "  Don't  forget  you're  a  lady,  Vi,"  he 
said  mockingly.  "  Be  careful  what  you  say,  or  you'll 
make  a  bad  impression  on  my  friend." 

But  Viola  was  too  infuriated  for  prudence,  neces- 


FIOL'A 


sary  though  it  was  that  she  speedily  find  a  successor 
to  the  departed  lover.  "  I  don't  care  a  damn !  "  she 
hissed.  "  If  he  looks  this  way  again,  I'll  break  a  carafe 
on  that  bloated,  bald  head  of  his." 

"  Come,  come !  Ladies !  Ladies !  "  said  Berkeley, 
good-humored  but  imperative — the  master  cracking  the 
whip  warningly  at  the  performing  animals. 

"  You  keep  out  of  this,"  retorted  Viola,  lowering  at 
him. 

Berkeley's  eyes  began  to  glitter ;  but  before  he  could 
speak  Jessie  cried  sharply :  "  Now,  look  here,  Vi !  You've 
got  to  behave  like  a  lady.  What  did  you  promise  me 
when  I  let  you  come  along  to-night?  "  She  turned  to 
Murdock.  "  I  never  saw  such  a  girl !  She's  got  the 
worst  disposition  in  the  world.  Now,  when  /  brealc 
with  a " 

"  You !  "  sneered  Viola.  «  Why,  you—"  And  she 
paused  to  laugh. 

Jessie,  cheeks  aflame  and  eyes  glowing:  "Viola,  if 
you  try  to  queer  me,  you  know  what  you'll  get." 

With  the  suddenness  of  those  whose  lives  swing  as 
freely  to  the  winds  of  the  passions  as  a  weathervane  to 
the  winds  of  heaven,  Viola  became  calm,  was  smiling  and 
gracious,  seemed  the  brighter,  the  more  sparkling  and 
glittering  for  the  storm,  like  the  roughened  surface  of 
the  lake  when  the  clouds  break  and  the  sun  streams  down 
again.  At  first  Murdock  thought  Jessie's  warning  was 
the  cause  of  the  change,  if  indeed  it  had  any  cause  be 
yond  the  whimsical  veering  of  her  wayward  temper. 
Then  he  chanced  to  note  a  flashily  dressed  young  man 
at  the  next  table  but  one,  and  so  seated  among  his  male 
companions  that  he  was  full  face  to  Viola.  The  young 
man  was  smirking  at  her ;  her  large,  brilliant  eyes  were 
shining  softly  on  him.  Presently  she  said  to  Jessie,  with 

135 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

elaborate  carelessness,  "  There's  Billy  —  with  the  other 
boys — see?  " 

Jessie  flung  a  withering  glance  at  Billy  and  his 
friends.  "  That  beer  bunch!  "  she  retorted  contemptu 
ously.  "  There  isn't  the  price  of  a  supper  in  the  crowd." 
And  Murdock,  new  to  the  "  Broadway  set "  but  judg 
ing  it  by  the  universal  principles  of  human  nature, 
knew  it  was  for  Billy's  sake  that  Viola  had  quarreled 
with  her  protector.  "  Vi's  a  good  thing,  she  is,"  con 
tinued  Jessie  to  Murdock.  "  The  idea  of  wasting  time 
on  race-track  touts !  " 

Murdock  was  amused  but  not  surprised  to  see,  a 
moment  later,  another  of  the  young  men  of  "  that  beer 
bunch  "  take  advantage  of  Berkeley's  back  to  throw  a 
kiss  to  Jessie  under  pretense  of  pulling  at  his  cigarette ; 
and  a  few  seconds  later  Jessie,  after  a  furtive  glance 
that  contrasted  strangely  with  the  mask  of  simple  good 
nature  she  habitually  wore,  returned  the  kiss  with  her 
eyes,  her  lips  touching  the  edge  of  her  wine  glass.  And 
now  Murdock,  sensitive  to  the  realities  beneath  this  allur 
ing  scene  of  free  and  careless  gayety,  noted  how  the  eyes 
cf  all  the  men  and  women  were  constantly  roving  as  if 
each  were  seeking  some  one  more  attractive  than  his  or 
her  partner,  some  one  for  whom  to  shake  off  the  light 
bond  and  flit  away.  Berkeley,  too,  was  looking  about, 
though  Jessie  was  trying  to  keep  his  attention  upon  her. 
Her  tone  was  caressing,  but  mechanically  so.  It  would 
have  irritated  Murdock;  still,  he  envied  Berkeley  the 
coarse-fibered  nerves  that  enabled  him  to  enjoy  it,  just 
as  the  noisy  uproar  of  the  orchestra  pleased  his  ears 
more  than  would  real  music. 

"  So  you're  in  love  with  Billy,"  said  Murdock  to 
Viola,  in  an  aside. 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  apprehensive  look.  Then, 
136 


VIOLA 


instinct  guiding  her,  she  replied  candidly :  "  Just  at 
present.  But  I'll  get  tired  of  putting  up  for  him 
soon." 

"  You  '  put  up  >  for  him?  " 

"  Of  course.     The  men  buy  us ;  we  buy  lovers." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Murdock.  "  That's  your  way  of 
getting  even." 

"  Getting  even  ?  "  Evidently  Viola  did  not  under 
stand  him.  "  No,"  she  went  on  to  explain,  "  it's  the  life 
we  lead.  The  men  that  buy  us  don't  want  love.  They 
think  they  do,  but  they  don't.  They  want  to  feel  free 
to  go  at  any  minute.  They  just  want — "  her  look  and 
her  laugh  moved  Murdock  to  pity  for  her,  though  she 
evidently  felt  only  the  cheerfullest,  most  cynical  sar 
casm —  "  what  they  pay  for.  Well,  a  woman's  got  to 
love  somebody,  and  the  only  kind  she  can  get,  if  she's  our 
sort,  is  the  Billys."  She  smiled  charmingly.  "  Come 
to  think  of  it,  love  isn't  in  it  at  all.  The  men  despise 
us  as  things.  We  look  round  for  something  lower  than 
ourselves,  something  we  can  buy  and  despise."  Her 
pretty  face  sobered ;  her  pouting  lips,  that  looked  as  if 
a  myriad  of  kisses  had  stung  them  to  a  fuller  bloom  and 
a  deeper  crimson,  curled  in  a  smile  of  cynical  self- 
contempt. 

"  Cheer  up,  Vi ! "  cried  Berkeley,  lifting  his  glass. 

Viola  startled,  shrugged  her  sinuous  shoulders, 
laughed,  emptied  her  glass. 

When  Berkeley,  feeling  that  he  had  warded  off  the 
gloom,  returned  to  Jessie,  Murdock  said,  "  You're  not 
very  prudent,  are  you?  " 

"Why?" 

"  Letting  me  into  the  secrets." 

Viola  tilted  her  charming  head  and  smiled  at  him 
slantingly,  her  eyes  half  closed.  "  I  don't  have  to  be 
10  137 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

prudent — yet.  I'm  only  twenty  and  I've  got  my  looks. 
When  I'm  Jessie's  age,  I'll  begin  to  be  sly.  Besides,  it 
doesn't  do  any  harm  to  let  the  men  see  the  game.  They 
don't  care  what  we  are  or  what  we  think.  They  despise 
us.  All  they  want  is  our  bodies." 

Murdock  winced  again.  Yet  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  be  deeply  impressed  by  her  coarseness  or  to 
retain  the  impression  long ;  her  figure  was  too  stimulat 
ing,  her  face  too  sweet  and  girlish.  Her  bloom  was  as 
evanescently  tainted  by  her  coarseness  as  is  the  bloom 
of  the  rose  by  the  ugly  worm  that  crawls  across  its  pet 
als  and  disappears.  Leaning  close  to  her,  as  he  now 
was,  to  make  their  conversation  private,  he  learned  why 
she  was  fascinating  him,  why  looking  at  her  made  him 
burn  with  the  memory  of  Juliet  Raeburn.  It  was  not 
altogether,  not  chiefly,  the  resemblance  of  figure  and 
dress.  It  was  her  perfume — faint  yet  strong,  sweet  yet 
sharp,  persistent,  insistent,  sensuous,  the  odor  of  fresh 
flowers,  of  violets,  of  lilies  of  the  valley,  of  all  that 
scents  the  springtime. 

"  What  is  that  perfume?  "  he  asked,  striving  in  vain 
to  make  his  tone  careless. 

Her  eyes  flashed  gayly  and  she  waved  the  ends  of 
her  feather  boa  under  his  nose.  He  paled  and  flushed 
and  paled  again.  She  laughed,  a  little  jealously.  "  It 
reminds  you  of  somebody?  "  she  teased.  And  again  she 
tilted  her  small  head  and  gazed  at  him  with  that  slant 
ing,  daring  glance,  the  more  naked  that  it  was  half 
veiled  by  her  drooping  eyelids. 

His  eyes  blazed  upon  her  the  passion  that  had  been 
cheated  of  its  prey.  "  You'll  do,"  he  said,  delighting  in 
his  brutality. 

Her  gaze  softened ;  she  leaned  toward  him  languor 
ously.  "  I'm  glad,"  she  said  softly.  "  You're  my 

138 


VIOVA 


style.    I  don't  believe  you're  quite  as  young  as  I've  been 
thinking." 

"Why?" 

"  You've  been  through  a  lot.  I  don't  like  young 
men." 

"  Billy  is  about  twenty-three,  I'd  judge." 

"  Oh,  that's  different.  Billy  don't  cut  any  ice  with 
me,  not  really."  And  again  she  gave  him  the  long,  lan- 
gourous  look;  there  was  insincerity  in  it,  but  also  more 
sincerity  than  his  lack  of  vanity  permitted  him  to  credit. 
That,  however,  concerned  him  little ;  what  he  wanted  was 
to  feel  himself  the  master,  the  autocrat.  And,  with  his 
senses  stimulated  and  his  sensibilities  blunted  by  cham 
pagne,  he  was  getting  that  feeling  from  her. 

"  It's  dead  slow  here  to-night,"  cut  in  Berkeley. 
"  Let's  go  to  Churchill's  or  Jack's." 

"  Not  Jack's,"  cried  Jessie.  "  Vi  made  a  scene  there 
yesterday  morning."  Whereat  they  both  laughed, 
throwing  back  their  heads  and  showing  the  bright,  fresh 
interiors  of  their  pretty  mouths. 

They  were  having  their  third  quart  of  the  cham 
pagne.  Viola  was  making  opportunities  to  lean  against 
Murdock,  to  touch  him,  to  insinuate  her  fingers  into  his 
palm.  Jessie,  forgetting  wisdom,  was  casting  languish 
ing  glances  indiscriminately  round  the  room,  as  she 
lavished  upon  Berkeley  the  stereotyped  words  and  ges 
tures  of  endearment.  "  Waiter,  the  bill !  "  called  Berke 
ley,  ignoring  her. 

"  Oh,  no,  let's  stay  here,"  protested  she,  darting  a 
fiery  glance  at  her  young  man  at  "  Billy's  "  table. 

"  No,  we're  going,"  said  Berkeley,  smiling.  "  And  " 
— with  a  tantalizing  laugh — "  if  that  young  man  of 
yours,  the  one  you've  been  flirting  with,  follows  us  he'll 
take  you  home,  my  dear." 

139 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

Jessie  shrank  and  bit  her  lip ;  Viola  laughed.  Jessie 
scowled  furiously  at  her;  but  with  Jessie  prudence  was 
a  primal  instinct,  and  her  mask  swiftly  and  automati 
cally  readjusted.  "  What  young  man?  "  asked  she  withi 
an  injured  air. 

"  The  one  that  slips  out  when  I  come,  and  slips  in 
when  I  go,"  replied  Berkeley  unruffled.  "  The  one  in 
the  '  beer  bunch  '  over  there." 

In  paying,  he  exhibited  a  great  package  of  bills  laid 
flat  between  the  folds  of  a  leather  case.  The  eyes  of  the 
two  girls  glistened  as  their  imaginations  were  stimulated 
by  the  sight  of  the  purchase  price  of  so  much  luxury. 
"  How  they  hate  him  for  having  so  much  of  what  they 
so  desperately  want,"  thought  Murdock.  He  liked  Vi 
ola  better  as  he  noted  that  her  look  of  envy  was  merely 
human,  while  Jessie's  was  the  look  that  goes  with  poised 
beak  and  twitching  talon.  Besides,  he  had  drunk  an 
unusual  quantity  of  champagne.  When  Viola  pressed 
his  arm  he  returned  the  pressure,  closed  his  eyes,  inhaled 
the  perfume  that  shook  from  the  big  black  plumes  in  her 
white  hat.  "  Juliet !  "  he  muttered,  the  fumes  of  wine 
and  of  perfume  combining  to  intoxicate  him.  And  his 
fingers  closed  upon  Viola's  slender  arm  so  violently  that 
she  cried  out  with  pain.  "  But  I  don't  mind,"  she 
hastened  to  add  languorously.  "  I — like  it." 

As  the  blast  of  outer  air  douched  him  he  recovered 
somewhat.  "  What  the  hell  am  I  about?  "  he  muttered. 
Then,  aloud,  in  a  curt,  abrupt  tone,  "  I  must  go  to  the 
hotel." 

"  Look  at  him,"  said  Jessie  to  Vi  aside.  "  I  didn't 
think  he  could  be  so  fierce." 

"  I  don't  like  him,"  whispered  Vi.  "  But—"  She 
made  a  pouting  face. 

"  He's  easy  fruit,"  replied  Jessie,  "  if  you  manage 
140 


VIOLA 


him  right.  And,  you're  lying.  You  do  like  him.  Don't 
make  a  fool  of  yourself  and  get  soft  on  him." 

Berkeley  was  remonstrating  with  him.  "  No,  you 
ain't  going  home,"  cried  he.  "  You  wouldn't  leave  me 
in  the  lurch.  Besides,  the  fun's  just  beginning." 

But  Murdock's  jaw  was  set.  "  Here's  where  I  drop 
out." 

"  Put  me  in  a  hansom,"  said  Viola.  "  I've  got 
enough.  I'm  going  home,  too." 

Jessie  winked  at  Berkeley  and  tugged  at  his  arm. 
Berkeley  grinned.  "  Oh !  .  .  .  All  right,  old  man.  Put 
her  in  a  hansom.' 

"  Yes,  put  her  in  a  hansom,"  said  Jessie.  "  You  can 
drop  her  at  my  flat.  She's  staying  with  me." 

Berkeley  and  Jessie  drove  away  in  the  brougham. 
The  carriage  opener  ordered  up  a  hansom.  Murdock 
held  from  the  wheel  the  skirts  of  Viola's  fur-trimmed, 
white-cloth  wrap.  As  she  stepped  up  she  flirted  into  his 
very  face  the  mass  of  flounces  and  laces  she  was  hold 
ing.  The  motion  freed  a  cloud  of  perfume — the  per 
fume.  He  straightened  up,  hesitated.  As  she  sat  in 
the  corner  of  the  cab,  her  sweet,  pathetic  young  face 
pleading  to  him,  she  looked  even  lovelier  than  she  was. 
The  wind-swept  street  was  icy ;  he  felt  chilled  to  the 
heart  with  loneliness.  "  Hurry,"  she  said.  "  Let's  get 
the  glass  down." 

He  entered  the  hansom,  the  glass  dropped,  and  they 
were  off.  "  I'm  so  cold,"  she  murmured,  snuggling 
her  bare  hand  into  his.  "  Please  fasten  my  wrap  at  the 
throat." 

To  do  this  he  had  to  bend  very  close  to  her.  She 
tilted  back  her  head  and  pouted  her  enticing  lips  con 
veniently  near  his,  in  frank  invitation.  He  seemed  not 
to  see,  completed  his  task,  drew  away. 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  kiss  me?  "  she  pouted  and 
pleaded. 

"  I'll  not  rob  Billy." 

"  Bother  Billy !    You're  in  love  with  some  woman !  " 

"Well?" 

"  Shut  your  eyes  and  imagine  I'm  her." 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  do?  " 

"  Often." 

She  put  her  head  on  his  shoulder ;  he  closed  his  eyes ; 
the  perfume  and  her  soft,  round  cheek  against  his  gave 
him  an  illusion  that  set  him  afire. 

At  the  flathouse  in  Fifty-ninth  Street,  he  helped 
her  to  descend,  accompanied  her  up  the  steps,  stood  while 
the  night  porter  was  shuffling  and  yawning  down  the 
hall  in  answer  to  her  impatient  ring.  "  Good  night," 
he  said. 

"  Come  in  a  minute  and  get  warm,"  urged  she. 
"  You  surely  want  to  see  what  kind  of  a  place  old  Berke 
ley  has  put  Jessie  in." 

"  I  don't  want  to  keep  the  cabby  standing  in  the 
cold." 

"  He'll  stand  all  night  for  somebody.  It  might  as 
well  be  you." 

Murdock,  cold,  with  his  passion  burning  at  his  heart, 
with  the  loneliness  of  his  hotel  drearily  visioned,  entered. 
Jessie's  flat  was  on  the  second  floor.  Viola  gave  the 
porter  a  two-dollar  bill  as  they  left  the  elevator.  "  We 
have  to  keep  him  in  a  good  humor,"  she^  explained. 
"  This  is  a  quiet  house.  Everything  goes  in  New  York, 
if  you  pay  well." 

The  flat  lost  all  suggestion  of  mere  apartment  the 
instant  one  was  inside  the  doors,  and  took  on  the  appear 
ance  of  a  large  and  luxurious  house.  Before  Murdock, 
a  grand  stairway  led  upward  to  the  second  floor  of  the 


VIOLA 

duplex.  To  the  left  was  a  salon  with  two  onyx  pillars 
supporting  the  carved  ceiling.  "  This  furniture — and 
the  pictures — belong  to  Jessie,"  said  Viola.  Murdock 
glanced  round  perfunctorily.  Everything  was  costly  and 
ostentatious ;  but,  like  all  the  surroundings  of  the  lux 
urious  class,  both  respectable  and  otherwise,  there  was 
small  evidence  of  individuality  or  taste,  unless  a  crav 
ing  for  the  showiest  and  costliest  be  called  individuality 
and  taste. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  drenched  with  the 
powerful  essence  Jessie  used.  Viola  had  dropped  her 
wrap  on  a  divan.  She  was  removing  her  hat  pins,  her 
arms  above  her  head.  Murdock's  eyes  rested  on  her. 
Suddenly  he  seized  her  and  crushed  her  in  his  arms.  She 
gave  a  cry  of  pain;  he  held  her  the  more  tightly,  for 
the  cry  seemed  somehow  to  assuage  the  flames  that  were 
licking  his  heart.  "  Don't !  "  she  panted.  "  You're 
mussing  my  only  best  dress.  Almost  everything  I  had 
was  taken  by  that — "  Again  she  used  the  epithet  that 
struck  him  in  the  face  like  a  dab  of  filth. 

He  shuddered,  shook  her  violently.  "  For  God's 
sake !  "  he  cried,  angry  as  a  rudely  roused  dreamer, 
"  can't  you  use  decent  language?  " 

"  What  would  you  call  a  man  that  had  treated  you 
as  he  treated  me?  "  she  asked,  unmoved.  And  her  limpid 
languorous  eyes  were  upon  him,  and  her  sensuous,  yet 
girlish  lips  and  her  warm,  sweet  breath  were  alluring 
him. 

He  laughed.  The  worm  had  dropped  from  the  rose, 
Shad  vanished.  "  Forget  him,"  said  he.  "  And  help 
me  to  forget — everything  unpleasant." 

"  I'll  send  away  the  hansom.  You  can  ring  for 
another  when  you  want  it." 

He  gave  her  a  ten-dollar  bill.    "  Tell  him  to  keep  it." 
143 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   'NEWf 

She  left  the  room.  By  way  of  four  or  five  mutually 
reflecting  mirrors  he  saw  her  in  the  adjoining  room  at 
a  desk.  She  took  out  a  pocketbook,  put  his  ten-dollar 
bill  in  one  of  the  compartments,  took  another  bill  and 
some  silver  from  another  compartment.  She  rang.  A 
colored  maid,  very  neat  in  cap  and  apron  and  black 
dress,  appeared.  "  Tell  the  porter  to  give  this  to  the 
cabman  waiting  outside,"  he  heard  her  say.  "  And  bring 
some  champagne — a  quart." 

But  her  petty  swindle  did  not  disgust  him ;  it  moved 
him  to  pity.  And  in  a  moment  he  had  forgotten  it,  was 
reclining  on  the  great  sofa,  was  defying  the  image  of 
Juliet  Raeburn.  "  No  woman  shall  rule  me,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  Soon  I  shall  be  master  of  myself  again."  When 
she  returned  she  was  in  a  loose  gown  of  thin  silk  that 
wrapped  round  her  legs  at  every  step  and  revealed  her 
slender  neck  and  all  of  her  slender  back.  Her  form  was 
flaunting  more  ostentatiously  than  ever  the  suggestion 
of  impatience  at  the  restraint  of  its  garments.  She  flung 
herself  into  his  arms  with  a  little  gasp. 

"When  will  Jessie  and  Berkeley  come?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  about  daybreak.  But  he'll  go  straight  awajr 
to  his  family.  You  say  you're  not  married  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  say,"  he  replied  curtly. 

"  How  touchy  you  are !  "  She  slid  her  arms  slowly] 
and  softly  over  his  neck  and  face. 

"  That's  a  wonderful  perfume  you  use." 

"  I  love  it." 

"What  is— the  name?" 

"  That's  my  secret.  I  used  to  be  a  model  in  a  dress 
making  place,  and  the  lady  that  kept  it " 

He  drew  her  round  into  his  lap  and  held  a  glass  of 
champagne  to  her  lips.  "  Never  mind  your  past,"  said 
he.  "  Let's  forget." 

144; 


VIOLA 

She  kissed  him — on  the  eyes,  on  the  lips.  "  I  like 
you,"  she  murmured.  "  Really — not  make  believe." 

He  shut  his  eyes  and,  with  the  fumes  of  the  cham 
pagne  dizzying  him  and  her  perfume  deluding  him,  he 
kissed  Juliet  Raeburn  until  Viola  pushed  him  from  her. 
"  You  frighten  me,"  she  gasped.  "  I  wouldn't  think 
you  could  be  so  cruel." 

"  You  don't  know  me,"  replied  he  with  a  grim,  curt 
laugh.  "  I'm  only  beginning  to  get  acquainted  with 
myself." 

"  Gad,  what  a  relief  that  kind  of  women  are,"  said 
Berkeley  when  he  met  Murdock  at  lunch  next  day.  "  No 
need  to  put  on!  No  need  to  waste  time  in  polite  pre 
liminaries.  A  man  can  just  unbuckle  and  turn  himself 
loose.  You  look  like  a  new  person,  Charles." 

"  I  am,"  said  Murdock,  with  a  gleam  of  self-derision. 


IX 

THE    WEDDING,    AND    AFTER 

BERKELEY  had  sent  "  her  "  home  by  a  different  route 
and  by  the  humble  conveyance  of  the  Pullman  drawing- 
room.  To  make  his  quaint  domestic  accounts  balance,  he 
was  bringing  her  from  New  York  a  gold  and  platinum 
bag  set  and  fringed  with  rubies.  As  these  entries  to 
Florence's  credit  were  frequently  necessary,  and  as  he 
begrudged  every  dollar  for  purposes  other  than  personal, 
his  admiration  for  himself  as  a  model  husband  was 
rapidly  swelling. 

"  I'll  have  the  car  ready  day  after  to-morrow  night," 
said  he  to  Murdock,  when  they  were  about  to  separate  at 
the  Saint  X  station. 

Murdock  looked  blank,  then  inquiring. 

"  You  know,  we  told  them  we'd  be  back  Thursday." 

"Did  we?    So  we  did." 

"  You're  not  going  to  disappoint  me,  are  you  ?  " 

"  If  I  can  arrange  it,"  was  Murdock's  unsatisfactory 
reply. 

"  Tired  of  little  Hastings?  Or  don't  you  fancy  her? 
She  is  thin.  Perhaps  you'd  prefer  Jessie." 

Murdock's  expression  was  so  peculiar  that  Berkeley 
reddened.  But  he  stood  his  ground.  "  What's  the  use 
of  these  hypocrisies  ?  "  said  he.  "  Of  course,  with  the 
ladies —  But,  among  ourselves " 

With  a  hasty  "  I'll  see,"  Murdock  sprang  into  his 
146 


THE   WEDDING,   'AND   AFTER 

waiting  auto.  Berkeley  looked  after  him  quizzically. 
"  Conscience  troubling  him,  I  guess,"  reflected  he. 
"  Queer  thing,  a  man's  conscience — or  a  woman's,  for 
that  matter." 

But  Berkeley  had  guessed  wrong.  Unlike  him,  Mur- 
dock  did  not  keep  accounts  with  conscience,  but  with 
self-respect ;  and  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  in  the  Viola 
incident,  all  but  forgotten  before  the  Saint  X  express 
had  cleared  the  suburbs  of  New  York,  he  was  in  the  least 
involved.  He  had  found  Viola  neither  agreeable  nor  dis 
tasteful,  simply  unimportant.  She  had  been  accidental — 
a  fortunate  accident,  he  thought,  because  when  he  met 
her  his  madness  for  Juliet  Raeburn  was  threatening  not 
only  to  destroy  him  but  also  to  defeat  itself  through  its 
reckless  violence.  Viola  had  halted  him  long  enough  to 
enable  him  to  recall  reason  to  its  place  as  the  chief  and 
trusty  servant  of  his  will.  A  horse  will  go  farther  and 
faster  under  the  rein  than  as  a  runaway — and  so  will  a 
passion.  But  in  herself,  Viola  had  been  to  him  merely 
a  matter  of  a  mood  and  a  perfume.  His  notion  that  she 
might  free  him  from  Juliet  Raeburn  had  passed  with 
the  turbulent,  champagne-hazed  hours  that  gave  it  birth. 
He  could  not,  like  a  Berkeley,  satisfy  his  imperial  long 
ings  for  life  by  any  such  tame  and  colorless  impressions 
as  he  could  get  from  a  woman  who  had  only  the  common 
place  tricks  and  arts  of  appeal  to  the  senses,  who  was 
merely  good-natured,  obliging,  and  pretty.  To  his 
strength  of  imagination  and  of  passion,  her  prettiness  as 
a  source  of  sensation  lost  its  power  with  the  falling  of 
the  veil  from  the  empty,  bare,  inner  temple  of  her  per 
sonality.  If  he  had  wanted  a  mannikin  for  the  display 
of  fine  raiment  and  jewelry,  or  the  mere  sense  of  con 
venient  femininity  that  is  most  men's  chief  satisfaction 
from  the  women  they  attach  and  maintain  within  or 

147 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

without  the  bond,  Viola  would  have  done  as  well  as 
another;  better  than  most  because  she  was  tactful 
enough  not  to  irritate  with  untimely  chatter.  But  the 
man  who  craves  the  ocean  cannot  stay  himself  long  with 
placid  paddling  about  in  a  bathing  pool.  As  for  what 
Viola  might  feel  at  his  abrupt  and  final  exit,  it  was  not 
his  habit  to  consider  others  where  consideration  might 
make  him  hesitate.  The  master  men,  playing  life  as  a 
game  and  using  their  fellow-men  as  pawns,  would  not 
get  far  if  they  included  consequences  to  others  in  their 
calculations.  Also,  he  had  learned  that  consideration 
usually  causes  greater  blunders  and  disasters  than  ruth- 
lessness ;  finally,  he  had  not  the  necessary  vanity  to  imag 
ine  her  interest  in  him  other  than  purely  commercial.  He 
rightly  interpreted  her  constraint  with  him,  so  different 
from  her  and  Jessie's  familiarity  with  Berkeley.  She 
was  not  at  heart  vulgar;  the  reverse.  But  she  liked  to 
be  surrounded  by  vulgarity ;  it  gave  her  a  pleasant  sense 
of  moral  superiority,  while  the  absence  of  it  seemed  a 
criticism  of  her  mode  of  life  which  she,  still  true  to  her 
early  training  in  a  New  England  Presbyterian  family, 
regarded  as  degraded. 

Thus,  Murdock  made  his  plans  with  not  a  sug 
gestion  of  that  vanity  so  agreeably  disguised  as  tender 
heartedness  which  dominates  most  men  in  their  dealings 
with  women  who  care  no  more  for  them  than  they  them- 
selves  care  for  the  women.  "  Berkeley  can  settle  it," 
said  he  to  himself,  halfway  to  the  Eyrie.  And  when  he 
had  decided  on  the  size  of  the  consolation  check  Viola 
vanished,  having  once  more  and  for  the  last  time  served 
to  evoke  the  flaming  phantom  of  Juliet  Raeburn.  He 
set  his  teeth  together. 

"  As  soon  as  Norma's  wedding  is  over " 

His  passion  wrapped  him  in  the  torment  of  its  flames. 
148 


THE    WEDDING,   AND   AFTER 

He  could  not  banish  the  vision  of  Juliet's  slim,  cool, 
white  beauty  with  its  mystery  of  magic  and  terror. 
!And  a  hot  wind  heavy  with  her  perfume  released  her 
long,  thick  hair  and  drenched  his  face  with  its  electric 
waves.  The  measure  of  an  individuality  is  the  sweep  of 
its  imagination  and  the  intensity  of  its  desires.  The 
pale  personalities  that  flicker  and  fade  in  the  back 
ground  of  this  world  do  not  understand,  can  scarcely 
credit,  the  passions  of  the  few  strong  men — passions 
that  compel  them  to  labors  without  ceasing,  to  sacri 
fices  without  limit,  to  cruelties  and  crimes  colossal. 
"  As  soon  as  Norma's  wedding  is  over " 

In  the  excitement  and  confusion  of  the  preparations 
for  the  wedding  his  coming  was  hardly  noticed.  Sophy, 
eager  for  grievances  to  enter  in  her  ledger  account  with 
him,  frowned  at  sight  of  his  train  of  secretaries  with 
bags  and  bundles ;  and,  when  he  kept  himself  shut  in  his 
library  with  his  tools  for  concentrating  the  whole  world 
at  his  desk,  she  told  herself  that  he  was  outraging  the 
proprieties.  "  He  can't  take  time  from  his  business  for 
his  family  even  when  his  only  daughter  is  getting  mar 
ried,"  thought  she.  If  he  had  not  kept  out  of  the  way 
her  grievance  would  have  been  that  he  had  not  stayed  in 
New  York  and  minded  his  own  affairs. 

Norma  had  wanted  a  quiet  wedding;  but  Sophy 
would  not  permit  it.  To  her  old-fashioned  prejudices 
there  was  something  not  quite  moral  in  a  private  wed 
ding.  It  was  bad  enough  that  Norma  should  be  marry 
ing  a  man  older  than  her  mother ;  to  marry  him  quietly, 
furtively,  as  it  were,  was  not  to  be  tolerated.  Norma 
yielded  to  stop  her  mother's  sighing  and  complaining. 
The  result  was  an  upheaval  in  the  domestic  arrange 
ments  and  in  the  routine  of  life  that  carried  the  girl 

149 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

far  toward  nervous  prostration.  Instead  of  the  wedding 
she  had  dreamed,  there  was  an  elaborate,  ostentatious 
public  function.  It  went  off  smoothly  enough  on  the 
surface ;  but,  behind  the  appearances  of  order  and  splen 
dor,  there  were  the  petty  harassments,  the  sordid  irrita 
tions  and  worries  that  attend  the  production  of  a  spec 
tacle — the  vulgar  and  wearing  stupidities  that  make  life 
in  a  fashionable  society  so  devoid  of  dignity,  so  ludi 
crous  to  people  who  think.  And  the  entire  burden  fell 
upon  her. 

As  she  stood  at  the  altar  with  Joe  the  guests,  noting 
her  circled  eyes,  her  wan  cheeks,  the  weary,  pathetic 
drawing  of  the  mouth,  began  to  speculate  whether  there 
were  not  some  dark  secret  behind  the  marriage — com 
pulsion  on  the  part  of  the  parents,  eager  for  an  alliance 
with  the  Degarmos  who  were  of  the  old  French  aris 
tocracy  of  the  West  that  had  had  manners  and  the  cus 
tom  of  luxury  when  the  East  was  still  rude  and  rural. 
At  the  breakfast  she  saw  Joe's  eyes  on  her  with  a  dis 
appointed  expression.  And  she  knew  why.  Then  there 
was  her  enemy,  Antoinette  Houghton,  with  a  look  that 
said :  "  I  felt  there  wasn't  much  staying  power  in  your 
looks,  but  I  didn't  dream  how  little."  And  the  stage 
managers  and  helpers  at  the  spectacle  were  all  running 
to  her  about  everything.  To  cap  the  climax,  she  over 
heard  her  mother  making  moan  to  Florence  Berkeley: 
"  Yes,  I  am  just^ about  dead.  I've  been  slaving  early 
and  late  for  a  month.  You  know  how  it  is — nobody 
could  do  anything  without  first  pestering  me."  This, 
when  Sophy  had  not  lifted  a  finger  to  help,  had  spoken 
only  to  complain  that  she  was  being  worked  into  an  ill 
ness,  or  to  criticise  peevishly  the  things  that  were  being 
done,  without  offering  any  coherent  suggestions  for 
improvement. 

150 


THE    WEDDING,   AND   AFTER 

Norma,  turning  away  with  tears  trickling  down  her 
iwhite,  hollowed  cheeks,  was  facing  her  father.  He  was 
not  looking  at  her,  but  at  Sophy ;  his  expression,  a  com 
plete  revelation  of  his  secret  mind,  was  so  bitter,  so  ter 
rible  that  her  heart  faltered  in  its  beat.  Her  father  un 
derstood;  her  father  knew;  and  he  was  revolving  some 
course  of  desperate  action.  She  made  a  brave  attempt 
to  smile.  "  This  wedding  has  nearly  cost  all  of  us  our 
lives,"  said  she.  "  I  am  being  well  punished  for  my 
vanity." 

Murdock  made  no  reply;  but  she  saw  she  had  not 
deceived  him. 

"  You  won't  say  anything  to  mother,  will  you  ?  "  she 
pleaded.  "  I'm  all  right — really,  I  am." 

He  abruptly  left  her. 

His  mind  was  made  up  to  begin  executing  his  plans 
for  freedom  on  the  following  day.  But  when  he  asked 
for  Sophy  the  next  morning,  he  learned  that  she  had 
taken  to  her  bed  for  a  thoroughgoing  sick  spell.  She  had 
overeaten  of  the  rich  trash  provided  for  the  wedding; 
also,  bed  was  the  only  place  where  she  could  entirely  es 
cape  the  labors  and  annoyances  of  clearing  away  the 
mess  the  wedding  had  made.  Now  that  Norma  was 
gone,  there  was  no  one  but  herself  to  take  charge. 

"  How  soon  will  the  house  be  straight  again  ?  "  he 
asked  Katy. 

"  About  a  week,  I  guess,"  replied  the  maid. 

Murdock  thus  learned  that  it  would  be  a  week  before 
Sophy  would  emerge.  He  went  to  Chicago,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  all  their  friends,  who  could  hardly  believe 
that  even  the  cold  and  indifferent  Murdock  would  treat 
a  sick  wife  so  heartlessly.  "  Telegraph  me,"  he  had  said 
ito  the  butler,  as  he  was  leaving,  "  when  Mrs.  Murdock 

151 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

is  sitting  up."  And  this  went  the  rounds  as  proof  con 
clusive  of  his  granitelike  heart. 

In  his  irritation  he  began  to  dabble  in  speculation, 
stirred  up  a  financial  war  that  forced  him  to  hasten  East, 
involved  himself  so  deeply  that  it  was  six  weeks  before 
he  could  leave  New  York.  He  paused  at  Slumber  Lake 
to  take  up  Norma  and  Joe — Joe  reluctant  to  end  the 
honeymoon  and  release  his  matchless  bride  to  the  rakish 
eyes  and  thoughts  of  men  who  still  were  as  he  had  been ; 
Norma,  glad  to  get  away  from  the  mosquitoes  and  from 
Joe's  incessant  sounding  of  the  one  note  from  the  harp 
with  the  one  string. 

In  honor  of  the  returning  bride,  Sophy  made  a 
special  effort  and  met  them  at  the  Saint  X  station,  ar-> 
riving  just  in  time,  as  the  train  was  twenty  minutes  late. 
She  had  gained  considerably  in  weight ;  but  her  skin  was 
clear,  and  Katy,  unusually  dextrous  that  day,  had  done 
her  hair  so  that  its  recession  behind  her  ears  and  its 
thinness  at  the  temples  were  well  concealed.  Also,  she 
happened  to  have  selected  a  becoming  hat  and  dress,  that 
gave  a  fair  chance  to  her  limpid,  soft,  deeply  blue  eyes 
and  her  faultless  nose.  Usually,  she  affected  frills  and 
furbelows  and  rich  trimmings,  all  taking  from  her  height 
and  adding  to  her  girth ;  to-day  she  was  wearing  a  white 
linen,  plain,  roomy,  and  a  new  style  of  corest  that  great 
ly  reduced  her  in  front.  Her  sleepy  inertia  was  swept 
away  by  Norma's  enthusiasm  of  young  delight  at  being 
home  again.  The  bride  was,  naturally,  the  center  of 
interest,  and  not  until  Murdock  and  his  wife  were  alone 
in  the  rear  seat  of  an  auto,  and  on  the  way  to  the  Eyrie, 
did  they  realize  what  utter  strangers  they  had  become. 
All  those  years  of  intimacy  seemed  to  each  like  a  faint 
memory  of  a  former  life. 

As  the  auto  swung  into  the  grounds,  Murdock's  face 
152 


THE    WEDDING,   AND   AFTER 

became  cold  and  frowning.  When  he  left,  these  grounds 
had  been  a  model  of  order  and  beauty.  Now,  hedges 
and  lawns  were  ragged,  fallen  leaves  were  strewn  messily 
about,  flower  beds  were  unsightly  with  faded  and  dead 
blooms  and  littered  petals ;  the  caterpillars  were  ravag 
ing  the  trees. 

"  Jansen  sick?  "  asked  Murdock.  Jansen  was  the 
head  gardener. 

"  No,"  replied  Sophy,  almost  as  if  addressing  an 
acquaintance.  "  He  came  up  for  orders  as  usual  this 
morning.  But  I  was  so  busy  getting  ready  to  come  to 
the  station  that  I  couldn't  see  him.  .  .  .  He's  been  do 
ing  very  well  this  summer.  Everybody  speaks  of  how 
beautiful  the  grounds  are." 

Murdock  said  nothing.  A  faint,  sarcastic  smile 
flitted  across  his  features.  Evidently  "  everybody  "  had 
been  at  "  everybody's  "  familiar  trick  of  encouraging 
rack  and  ruin  with  flattery. 

Now  they  were  in  front  of  the  house;  out  hurried 
the  butler  and  second  man,  both  in  unkempt  livery,  with 
linen  none  too  clean  and  unshaven  cheeks.  Murdock 
glanced  from  one  to  the  other ;  they  looked  uneasy,  for 
they  knew  at  once  the  why  of  that  keen  scrutiny,  though 
they  had  not  had  the  necessary  imagination  to  prepare 
for  it.  He  ascended  to  the  entrance ;  chairs  and  cushions 
untidily  about  the  verandas,  the  floors  neglected.  He 
muttered  under  his  breath  and  entered  the  house.  There 
the  same  glaring  evidences  of  neglect — dust  thick  on  the 
big  table  in  the  hall,  which  was  ironically  decorated  with 
a  forgotten  dusting  rag.  A  broom  upon  the  floor  in 
full  view  of  the  entrance.  One  of  the  statues  awry  upon 
its  pedestal;  the  pictures  crooked,  one  of  them  at  an 
absurd  angle. 

"  Your  rooms  are  ready,"  said  his  wife.  "  At  least, 
11  153 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

I  told  the  servants  to  get  them  ready.     I  haven't  been 
able  to  find  a  housekeeper  yet." 

"  Simcox  will  look  after  me,"  replied  he  coldly. 
"  What  time  do  you  have  lunch?  " 

"  At  one  o'clock." 

They  were  hesitating,  he  at  the  library  door,  she  at 
the  elevator.  "  Then  I'll  see  you  at  lunch,"  said  he  awk 
wardly.  And  they  went  their  separate  ways,  each  glad 
to  be  freed  of  the  embarrassment  and  strain  of  the 
other's  presence. 

Norma  and  Joe  came  at  one,  and  just  as  lunch  was 
announced  Charles  Junior  appeared,  brilliant  in  gaudy 
flannels  and  very  red  from  a  sail  on  the  river.  He  seemed 
to  Murdock  full  a  year  older  than  two  months  before; 
certainly  he  had  passed  out  of  the  clumsy  age  into  a 
graceful  and  manly  youth.  The  lunch  was  in  fact  a 
dinner,  and  a  bad  one.  The  service  was  almost  sloppy, 
a  retrogression  to  what  it  had  been  before  they  moved 
into  the  Eyrie  with  Norma  in  charge  of  the  household. 
One  rich  dish  succeeded  another — turtle  soup,  fried  fish 
with  thick  sauce,  roast  birds  saturated  with  butter,  salad 
with  mayonnaise  dressing,  the  ice  cream  with  whipped 
cream  and  chocolate  sauce.  Only  Sophy  and  the  boy 
ate.  Murdock  and  Joe,  both  at  the  age  when  a  man  has 
to  begin  to  be  careful  about  his  diet  if  he  is  not  to  lose 
his  waist  and  become  bald,  wrinkled,  and  baggy,  dared 
not  adventure  anything  that  was  served.  Norma  was 
in  the  same  plight,  being  mindful  of  her  complexion, 
which  had  not  benefited  by  the  hardship  of  the  camp, 
and  being  also  ever  haunted  by  the  fear  of  her  inherited 
tendency  to  fat.  As  all  three  were  hungry,  the  inability 
to  eat  made  them  grumpy  and  irritable,  roused  the  crit 
ical  faculty  in  Norma  and  her  father.  But  nothing  was 
said ;  to  speak  would  have  been  to  quarrel. 

154 


THE    WEDDING,   AND   AFTER 

After  lunch  all  went  to  the  broad,  well-shaded  east 
veranda,  Mrs.  Murdock  persistently  falling  asleep,  star 
tling  from  her  cat  naps  and  looking  about  with  an  ex 
pression  of  alertness  and  interest  that  would  have  struck 
them  as  ludicrous  had  they  been  less  out  of  humor. 
"  I'm  afraid  mother  isn't  well,"  said  Norma  in  an  under 
tone  to  her  brother,  when  Sophy  was  nodding. 

"Oh,  she's  all  right,"  replied  Charley.  "Aren't 
you,  ma  ?  " 

Sophy  awakened  with  a  start.  "  Yes,  I  think  it  is 
going  to  rain,"  said  she,  the  weather  having  been  the 
subject  of  conversation  when  she  dozed  off. 

Charley  laughed;  the  others  smiled,  Sophy  joining 
in  that  no  one  might  suspect  her  having  been  asleep. 
"  I  said  you  were  well,"  explained  Charley. 

"  Yes,  I'm  feeling  quite  well,"  said  Sophy,  "  quite 
well — for  me." 

But  her  face  in  repose  told  a  different  story.  It  is 
in  the  hour  after  the  meal  that  the  penalties  of  unchecked 
indulgence  of  natural  uneducated  appetite  show  most 
tellingly  in  the  face.  Sophy  looked  worn,  and  her  color 
was  that  of  a  person  suffering  from  some  inward  convul 
sion.  "  She  always  sleeps  a  while  after  lunch,"  continued 
her  son,  when  she  went  off  again.  "  And  after  dinner 
she  goes  straight  to  bed.  Oh,  she's  all  right.  She  eats 
and  sleeps  fine — though  she  imagines  she  doesn't." 

Murdock  was  studying  his  wife's  unguarded  counte 
nance  with  an  expression  that  made  a  chill  creep  over 
Norma,  the  only  one  to  observe  it.  "  He  realizes  the 
truth  about  her,"  thought  she.  And  then  she  visibly 
startled,  for  it  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  she  had 
frankly  admitted  to  herself  that  there  was  a  "  truth  " 
about  her  mother.  Joe  and  Charley  sauntered  away 
across  the  lawn.  She  presently  said  softly  to  her  father : 

155 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Poor  mother !  I  don't  believe  there's  another  woman 
in  Saint  X  who  has  always  stayed  so  close  at  home.  She 
has  given  her  whole  life  to  her  family." 

Murdock  reluctantly  took  his  strange  eyes  from  his 
wife,  slowly  to  concentrate  them  on  his  daughter.  He 
did  not  speak  for  full  half  a  minute,  during  which  Norma 
felt  her  blood  contracting  about  her  heart  under  the  spell 
of  that  mysterious  and  even  terrible  glance.  At  last 
he  said,  and  it  astonished  her  that  his  voice  was  as  usual, 
"  When  do  you  want  possession  of  this  house  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  she.  "  You  and  mother  and 
Charley  are  going  to  live  on  here."  She  smiled.  "  Of 
course  you've  got  to  pay  me  rent." 

"  I  bought  the  house  on  the  distinct  understanding 
that  you  were  to  live  in  it." 

"  But  mother  has  been  writing  me  how  much  she 
liked  it — that  she  had  completely  changed  her  mind." 

"  I  am  going  to  talk  with  her  about  it  to-day  or  to 
morrow." 

Something — perhaps  it  was  in  his  tone,  perhaps  it 
was  only  the  forewarnings  of  her  own  instinct — made 
Norma  say  with  an  entreaty  that  was  piteous :  "  Please 
don't  talk  of  it,  or  of  anything  disturbing — until  she  is 
better.  Or,  let  me  speak  to  her  about  it." 

Murdock  made  no  reply.  Presently  his  wife  awak 
ened.  "  Have  I  been  asleep  ?  "  said  she. 

"  You  have,"  replied  Norma. 

"  I  oughtn't  to  have  done  it.  Now,  I've  got  one  of 
my  headaches.  Sleeping  in  the  daytime  is  always  bad. 
But  lately  I  get  so  little  rest  at  night.  I  sleep  soundly 
a  couple  of  hours  or  so,  and  then  I  wake  up,  and  stay 
awake  till  nearly  daylight.  I  suppose  at  my  time  of 
life  people  begin  not  to  need  so  much  sleep." 

Norma,  of  a  generation  somewhat  better  informed 
156 


THE    WEDDING,   AND   AFTER 

on  the  subject  of  digestion,  could  have  told  her  the  cause 
of  this  stupor  followed  by  hours  of  insomnia.  But  of 
what  use?  Her  mother  would  simply  have  been  irri 
tated.  Ignorance  of  all  kinds  resents  light;  ignorance 
that  shields  self-indulgence  repulses  light. 

"  Charley  says  I  worry  too  much  about  the  house," 
continued  Sophy.  "  But  that's  my  way.  I  can't  change. 
I  can't  be  like  the  women  who  are  always  either  enter 
taining  or  being  entertained." 

Murdock  rose  and  strolled  into  the  house.  Sophy 
looked  after  him  with  a  furtive  expression  of  dislike  that 
astounded  and  shocked  her  daughter.  To  change  the 
subject  Norma  said :  "  Joe  and  I  have  decided  to  stay  on 
at  the  Degarmo  house.  We'll  keep  it  just  as  it  is,  all 
closed  but  the  south  wing.  Don't  forget,  you  and 
father  and  Charley  are  dining  with  us  to-morrow  night." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  sha'n't  feel  well  enough." 

"  Trash !  "  said  Norma.  "  I'm  coming  in  the  morn 
ing  to  take  you  for  a  walk." 

Sophy  was  instantly  angry  and  showed  it.  "  You 
know  I  can't  walk !  "  she  cried.  "  If  it  wasn't  for  the 
driving,  I'd  not  be  able  to  leave  the  house." 

"  If  it  wasn't  for  driving,  you'd  be  well  and  strong," 
retorted  Norma.  She  was  thinking  of  her  father's  eyes 
as  he  left.  "  I'll  be  up  about  nine  o'clock." 

She  whistled  from  the  edge  of  the  porch ;  Joe  turned, 
and  following  the  suggestion  of  her  pointed  finger, 
struck  out  for  a  point  near  the  first  downward  bend  of 
the  hill  drive,  she  cutting  across  the  lawn  to  meet  him 
there.  "  I  thought  you'd  as  lief  walk  home,"  said  she. 
"  I  must  do  my  five  miles." 


"  MARRIAGE    IS    SACRED    TO    ME 


SOPHY,  breakfasting  alone  in  her  sitting  room,  with 
the  door  into  the  hall  open,  glanced  up  to  see  Murdock 
in  the  doorway.  "  Gracious !  "  she  gasped,  much  as  if 
he  had  been  an  intruder  from  the  highroad.  And  the 
tone  and  manner  of  his  "  Good  morning  "  carried  the 
same  suggestion. 

He  seated  himself  near  the  window  and  gazed  out 
across  the  balcony  into  the  treetops  sparkling  in  the 
September  sunshine.  She  resumed  her  breakfast.  It 
was  on  a  huge  silver  tray  laid  with  fine  linen — the  three 
great  silver  pieces  of  the  coffee  set,  a  plate  of  hot  bis 
cuits,  three  eggs,  and  two  chops.  She  had  finished  eggs 
and  chops  and  all  but  two  of  the  biscuits,  and  was  drink 
ing  her  coffee  and  hot  cream  from  an  English  porcelain 
cup  the  size  of  a  not  small  bowl.  She  was  dressed,  as 
was  her  early  morning  custom,  in  a  mussy-fussy  negligee 
over  a  torn  silk  petticoat  and  an  old  corset  cover.  Her 
long,  Indian-straight  hair  had  been  carelessly  rolled  into 
a  knot  on  top  of  her  head.  In  her  childhood  she  was 
taught  those  small  economies  that  are  a  temptation  to 
degenerate  into  the  slattern — was  taught  to  be  careful 
of  "  Sunday  clothes,"  to  be  ever  mindful  that  frequent 
washing  is  harder  on  garments  than  use,  to  wear  out  the 
old  clothes  round  the  house,  when  "  nobody  "  would  see 

158 


"MARRIAGE  IS  SXCRED  TO  ME' 

— "  nobody  "  being  those  whose  good  opinion  is,  or 
should  be,  worth  more  to  one  than  that  of  all  the  world 
beside.  Though  she  had  no  stinginess  anywhere  in  her, 
and  had  eagerly  adopted  the  effortless  luxuries  penetrat 
ing  to  all  parts  of  America  with  the  growth  of  a  rich 
class  and  a  class  of  ingenious  and  assiduous  purveyors 
to  the  rich,  she  held  on  to  those  thrifty  habits  of  her 
childhood.  They  were  always  peering,  now  shrewdly, 
now  amusingly,  and  again  absurdly ,  through  her  veneer 
of  extravagance,  as  her  early  dialect  asserted  itself  in 
the  more  formal  speech  she  had  later  learned  to  use. 
She  was  certainly  not  an  inviting  young  matron  as  she 
sat  there  in  those  ill-assorted  and  unbecoming  garments, 
her  face  somewhat  swollen  from  the  night's  sleep.  But 
he  had  seen  that  same  spectacle — and  worse — too  many; 
times  especially  to  note  it,  though  its  contrast  with  his 
neatness  and  good  taste  would  have  made  a  painful  or 
a  cynical  impression  upon  an  onlooker.  She  was  out  of 
harmony  with  the  room,  too ;  for,  although  she  had  taken 
no  care  of  it,  had  let  upholstery  and  silk  wall-covering 
get  frayed  and  stained,  her  occupancy  had  been  too  brief 
to  destroy  altogether  the  simple  but  luxurious  freshness. 
More  than  her  appearance  he  was  noting  the  dowdiness 
of  her  room ;  and  a  nick  in  the  edge  of  her  cup  was  giv 
ing  him  the  feeling  of  stroking  velvet  against  the  grain. 
Nicked  dishes  happened  to  be  his  especial  small  aversion ; 
nor  had  years  of  daily  home  experience  blunted  his 
senses  to  them. 

"  Are  you  going  away  again?  "  she  asked,  trying  to 
account  for  the  strangeness  of  his  coming  to  that  apart 
ment  where  he  had  never  been  before. 

"  Yes,"  replied  he.  And  now  his  eyes  were  resting 
directly  upon  her.  "  I'm  going  to  New  York  to-night. 
I  want  to  settle  our  affairs  on  a  sensible  basis."  He 

159 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

was  speaking  slowly,  choosing  his  words.     "  We  ought 
not  let  them  drift  any  longer." 

To  an  outsider  there  would  have  been  profound 
pathos  in  the  relations  of  these  two — the  start  in  all 
the  glamour  of  passion  and  romance,  the  pitiful  anti 
climax  in  this  mutual  repulsion,  scarcely  concealed, 
this  drearily  ugly  commonplace  of  alienation.  But 
there  was  no  pathos  in  it  for  Murdock  or  for  Sophy; 
these  day  by  day,  hour  to  hour,  driftings  apart  make 
the  heart  callous  and  the  imagination  sterile. 

"  We  must  settle  our  affairs  on  a  rational  basis," 
he  repeated,  as  his  first  statement  seemed  to  have  made 
no  impression. 

She  looked  at  him.  In  all  their  married  life  he  had 
never  discussed  money  matters  with  her ;  she  had  spent 
what  she  pleased,  had  had  her  own  balance  at  the  bank, 
and  he  had  always  kept  it  up  beyond  her  demand  upon 
it.  "  Has  Charley  been  spending  too  much ! "  she 
asked.  "  Anyhow,  I  don't  know  anything  about  that. 
He  never  comes  to  me  for  money." 

"  I  mean  our  affairs — yours  and  mine." 

She  shook  her  head  vaguely.  "  Anything  you  like. 
I  always  have  been  used  to  sacrifices,  all  my  life.  I 
guess  I  can  make  out,  no  matter  what  happens.  Have 
you  lost  some  money  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  he,  with  some  irritation — not  at  her 
inability  to  see  what  he  was  trying  to  get  at,  but  be 
cause  he  suddenly  and  exasperatingly  felt  ashamed, 
felt  that  he  was  a  coward,  using  his  superior  intelli 
gence  and  power  to  compel  a  fellow  being,  who  was 
generous  and  kind  of  heart,  was  simply  weak  and  fool 
ish  in  a  different  way  from  himself.  "  No,"  he  re 
peated.  "  On  the  contrary,  everything  seems  to  be 
going  well." 

160 


"MARRIAGE  IS  SACRED  TO  ME" 

66  It'd  be  a  pity,"  said  she  reflectively,  "  if  we  had 
to  spend  our  declining  years  in  poverty.  I've  always 
said,  I'd  rather  never  have  anything,  than  lose  it." 

At  "  declining  years  "  he  made  an  impatient  ges 
ture,  and  rose — the  first  outward  signs  of  the  tempest 
within.  He  abruptly  seated  himself  opposite  her  at 
the  table.  "  Sophy,"  said  he,  "  there's  only  one  sen 
sible  course  for  us,  and  that  is  for  each  of  us  to  go 
his  own  way." 

"  Oh ! "  A  yellowish  pallor  overspread  her  face. 
She  wiped  her  mouth  with  the  napkin,  laid  it  down 
again,  steadied  her  trembling  hand  on  the  edge  of  the 
tray.  He  lowered  his  eyes.  To  hold  his  purpose  from 
wavering  required  all  that  hardiness  of  fibre  which  en 
ables  the  leaders  of  men  to  judge  and  to  resolve  and 
to  push  on,  where  the  ordinary  mortal  weakens.  Mur- 
dock  had  bared  the  knife  to  attack  the  cancer  he 
thought  was  destroying  both  their  lives ;  her  shrinking 
made  him  suffer,  but  not  flinch. 

"  For  a  long  time,"  he  went  on,  "  I've  seen  that  you 
feel  constrained  when  I  come,  and  relieved  when  I  go. 
Isn't  it  true?" 

"  And  whose  fault  is  it  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Nobody's  fault,"  replied  he.  "  It's  simply  a  con 
dition.  I  speak  of  it  only  because  it's  as  much  to  your 
interest  as  to  mine  that  we  meet  the  condition  like  sen 
sible  people." 

A  dark-red  flush  came  into  her  yellow  cheeks.  She 
pushed  back  her  chair,  shook  her  hair  into  even  greater 
oily  dishevelment.  "  So !  "  she  cried.  "  You  want  to 
go  away  to  that  Raeburn  woman !  " 

He  rose,  closed  the  door,  seated  himself  again — all 
deliberately  and  quietly. 

"  You'd  better  close  the  door ! "  she  sneered. 
161 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   'NEW 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  said  tranquilly.  He  leaned 
across  the  table.  Into  his  eyes  came  the  relentless  look 
that  made  people  afraid  of  him ;  the  feeling  that  caused 
that  look  made  him  often  afraid  of  himself.  "  I  am 
going  to  be  candid  with  you,  Sophy,"  said  he  in  a  low, 
even  voice.  "  And  you  are  going  to  be  candid  with  me. 
;  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  any  lies  or  make  any  false 
pretenses.  You  are  not  going  to  tell  me  lies  or  make 
false  pretenses." 

Her  eyes  had  lowered  before  his  look.  She  now 
sank  back  in  her  chair  and  took  on  a  sullen,  cowed 
expression. 

"  We'll  keep  to  the  point,"  he  continued.  "  That 
point  is  you  and  I — our  relations,  present  and  future. 
I  don't  want  to  hear  anything  about  the  sacrifices 
you've  made.  I  don't  want  any  silly  talk  about  the 
children,  or  my  duty  to  them.  Norma's  married; 
Charley  is  practically  grown.  Nor  will  it  be  of  any  use 
for  you  to  beg  the  question  by  bringing  in  any  other 
woman.  The  point  isn't  what  we  think  of  other  people, 
or  what  other  people  think  of  us.  It's  what  we — you 
and  I — think  of  each  other." 

She  understood;  she  felt  the  foundation  of  her 
earth  shaking.  "  I  haven't  lost  all  my  religion,  if  you 
have,"  said  she.  It  was  pathetic  to  see  her  mind  run 
ning  this  way  and  that,  like  a  trembling  rabbit  cor- 
i  nered  by  a  dog.  The  spectacle  of  folly  provoking  fate, 
drawing  down  upon  itself  easily  avoidable  calamities, 
is  exasperating,  rouses  no  sympathy.  But  once  the 
blow  falls,  the  spectacle  takes  on  the  tragic  dignity 
that  always  must  invest  woe;  the  causes  are  forgotten, 
and  all  but  the  misery  itself.  "  I  still  believe  in  a  God, 
and  a  hereafter,"  quavered  she.  "  Marriage  is  sacred 
to  me." 

162 


ff MARRIAGE  IS  SACRED   TO   ME' 

"  Now,  Sophy,"  he  replied,  "  you  know  that  doesn't 
mean  anything.  We  were  both  brought  up  in  the  old- 
fashioned  American  way.  We  were  taught  that  love 
is  the  basis  of  marriage,  and  that  when  love  goes,  it  is 
a  degradation  for  two  people  to  live  on  together." 

"  That  ain't  what  my  religion  teaches  me  now." 

"  It's  what  your  instinct  teaches  still — the  instinct 
of  every  decent  human  being.  .  .  .  Tell  me,  Sophy, 
isn't  it  true  that  you've  ceased  to  care  for  me,  as  a 
husband?" 

"  I'm  past  the  age  for  such  foolishness,"  retorted 
she.  "  And  you  ought  to  be,  too — you  the  father  of 
grown  children,  one  of  them  married.  That  woman 
is  making  a  fool  of  you,  leading  you  on  to  dress  and 
act  as  young  as  your  son.  And  what  does  she  want? 
Nothing  but  your  money.  You  ought  to  have  sense 
enough  to  know  that  no  woman  would  look  at  a  man  of 
your  age,  except  for  his  money." 

"  Then  we  can  arrange  our  affairs  very  easily," 
said  he,  apparently  unruffled,  though  he  was  white  with 
the  tension  of  hiding  the  deep  wound  of  her  stab  into 
his  vanity.  "  As  you  practically  admitted  a  while  ago, 
my  only  place  in  this  household  is  payer  of  bills.  Ex 
cept  for  that  and  what  you  think  people  would  think, 
you'd  be  glad  if  I  took  myself  off  for  good." 

She  felt  that  he  was  entirely  in  the  wrong,  but  had 
through  his  superior  mental  adroitness  drawn  her  into 
a  position  where  she  seemed  the  one  in  the  wrong. 

"  What  I  propose  is  this,"  he  went  on.  "  You  will 
take  half  of  all  we've  got,  and  you  and  I  will  release 
each  other.  Thus,  we  will  cease  to  be  each  a  drag  on 
the  other." 

A  long  pause.  Then  she  started  up  hysterically, 
her  eyes  wild,  her  body  shaking.  "  Charles  Murdock !  " 

163 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   'NEW 

she  cried  shrilly.  "  O  God !  Is  this  man  the  father 
of  my  children,  the  man  who  used  up  my  youth?  When 
I  think  of  all  I  suffered,  having  Norma  and  Charley — 
and  my  sickness,  too,  since —  And  now  he  wants  to 
cast  me  off!  and  take  up  with  another  woman.  Oh! 
Oh !  Oh !  "  She  dropped  into  a  chair,  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands  and  sobbed  and  moaned.  "  This  is  my 
reward!  O  my  God,  what  can  I  have  done  that  Thou 
shouldst  punish  me  so  ?  " 

For  five  dragging  minutes  the  silence  was  broken 
only  by  the  sounds  of  her  grief.  He  sat  passive  as 
a  statue,  and  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  tell 
what  was  going  on  in  his  mind.  When  her  weeping 
subsided  into  occasional  sighs  he  said  in  his  usual  even 
voice,  "  Now,  Sophy,  let  us  resume  common  sense." 

Down  dropped  her  hands,  out  flashed  her  angry 
face.  "  You  have  no  heart !  "  she  cried.  "  You  are  as 
devoid  of  feeling  as  a  fiend.  You  sit  there  and  gloat 
over  the  sufferings  of  your  sick  wife.'' 

"  Why  do  you  object  to  releasing  me?  " 

"  Ain't  you  my  husband — my  husband  ?  Do  you 
think  a  decent,  self-respecting  woman  would  give  up 
her  husband,  the  father  of  her  children,  to  another 
woman !  Do  you  think  she'd  allow  the  whole  world  to 
point  at  her  as  a  cast-off  wife?  " 

"  For  years  you  have  willingly  not  been  my  wife." 
Her  eyes  shifted  at  those  slow  words,  heavy  freighted 
with  meaning  to  both.  "  The  only  thing  that  troubles 
you,  then,"  he  went  on,  "  is  what  people  will  say." 

"  Ain't  that  enough  ?  Don't  you  care,  haven't  you 
self-respect  enough  to  care  what  people  say  about  your 
wife,  the  mother  of  your  children?  " 

"  I  have  not,"  replied  he.  "  I  let  people  say  what 
they  please.  I  do  what  I  wish,  and  presently  they  tire 

164 


"MARRIAGE  IS  SACRED  TO  ME' 

of  railing  against  me,  and  say — and  think — what  I 
wish  them  to.  That's  the  way  those  who  amount  to 
anything  conduct  their  lives.  With  all  the  money  you 
could  possibly  spend,  you'll  find  people  will  be  ex 
tremely  careful  what  they  say  about  you.  Besides,  it 
isn't  true  that  I  wish  to  cast  you  off.  It  was  you  who 
cast  me  off.  You  ceased  to  care  years  ago."  His 
steady  glance  confused  and  downfaced  her.  "  I  re 
member  the  very  time,  Sophy — the  very  night — though 
I  didn't  understand  what  it  meant  then,  and  probably 
you  didn't." 

A  long,  strained  silence.  "  I  never  felt  at  ease  with 
you,  after  I  came  to  know  you,"  she  said  hesitatingly, 
humility  and  apology  in  her  voice.  "  And  I  didn't 
want  to  have  any  more  children." 

"  The  honest  truth  is  we  weren't  suited  to  each 
other,  and  you  realized  it — fully  realized  it — a  little 
sooner  than  I  did.  Isn't  that  so  ?  " 

"  But  I  didn't  go  hunting  after  some  other  man," 
retorted  she  sullenly. 

"  How  do  you  know  what  you'd  have  done  if  it  had 
so  chanced  that  the  temptation  came  your  way  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  think  I  couldn't  have  found  any 
body.  Why,  to  go  no  farther,  there  was  Tom  Berke 
ley.  Yes,  your  partner —  Oh,  I  didn't  tell  everything 
— I've  got  enough  sense  for  that.  But  /  did  my  duty. 
/  was  a  faithful  wife  and  a  devoted  mother.  And 
everybody  knows  it  but  you." 

"  If  it  were  not  for  what  other  people  would  say, 
would  you " 

"  I  won't  give  up  my  husband  to  no  woman,  no 
how  !  "  interrupted  she.  "  I  ain't  so  far  lost  to  de 
cency  and  religion." 

"  You  mean  that,  while  you  yourself  are  free  and 
165 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

purpose  to  remain  free,  and  to  do  as  you  please,  as 
you've  always  done,  you  refuse  to  free  me." 

"  I  won't  give  up  my  husband  to  any  woman,"  she 
repeated.  "  I've  got  the  fear  of  God  in  my  heart." 

He  leaned  back  and  reflected.  She,  watching  him 
stealthily,  had  begun  to  feel  the  glow  of  victory,  when 
he  resumed  in  the  same  even,  inflexible,  gentle  way: 
"  I  am  not  your  husband,  any  more  than  you  are  my 
wife.  You  know  it.  No  one  else  will  ever  know  just 
how  matters  have  stood  between  us  two.  But  I  know, 
and  you  know,  that  you  are  showing  now  the  same 
selfishness,  the  same  indifference  to  the  feelings  of 
everyone  else,  that  you've  always  shown."  As  she 
opened  her  lips  to  make  angry  excuse  and  denial,  he 
smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "  Oh,  I  know  you,  Sophy 
— at  least,  I  knew  you.  And  I  can  tell  by  your  ex 
pression  that  this  is  one  of  the  moments  in  which  you 
are  forced  to  see  the  real  truth  about  yourself.  You're 
one  of  those  women  who  get  the  reputation  for  being 
domestic  characters  because  they  are  lazy  and  indiffer 
ent,  of  being  self-sacrificing  because  they're  always 
talking  about  their  self-sacrifice,  with  the  world  full 
of  asses  who  take  in  whatever  drops  into  their  long 
ears  and  do  no  thinking." 

"  Talk  on,  talk  on,"  cried  she,  tauntingly.  "  But 
I'll  not  give  up  my  husband  to  another  woman.  And, 
let  me  tell  you,  Charles  Murdock — "  Her  voice 
shrilled  and  her  eyes  sparkled  with  the  hate  of  jealousy 
without  love —  "  you  want  to  look  out  how  you  goad 
me  on.  If  I'm  driven  to  it,  I'll  disgrace  you  and  her 
together.  Til  name  her!  " 

But  she  got  no  satisfaction  from  his  face.  His 
voice  did  not  betray  him  as  he  replied,  "  It's  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  me  what  you  do.  I  am  determined 

166 


"MARRIAGE  IS  SACRED  TO  ME" 

to  be  free  in  form  as  well  as  in  fact.  Keep  that  clearly 
in  mind." 

"  Oh,  I'll  ask  for  just  separation  papers." 

"  I  repeat,  I  am  determined  to  be  free.  Do  you 
suppose  I  haven't  planned  it  all  ?  " 

She  had  only  a  vague  idea  of  that  terrible  will  of 
his,  because  never  before  had  any  serious  issue  arisen 
between  them.  But  it  would  have  been  impossible  for 
even  an  unobservant  and  self-centered  person  to  be  his 
nearest  neighbor  so  many  years  without  getting  some 
impression  of  the  force  within  him — the  force  that 
gave  power  to  his  face  where  most  men,  as  they  leave 
behind  boyhood's  smooth  expressionlessness,  have 
weaker  and  weaker  faces,  redeemed  only  by  that  sad 
ness  which  is  the  universal  forecasting  of  the  tragedy 
of  the  ever  nearer  end.  At  those  words  of  his  she  shiv^ 
ered.  But  she  said  defiantly,  "  I  guess  the  courts'll 
protect  my  rights  and  my  children's  against  that  low; 
woman  and  you." 

He  rose,  showed  he  was  about  to  leave.  "  If  you 
deal  justly  by  me,"  he  said,  "  you  shall  have  half  of 
what  I've  got.  If  you  try  to  keep  me  from  my  rights, 
you  will  get  nothing  at  all.  I  have  put  my  prop 
erty  out  of  reach.  As  I  told  you,  I  am  going  to 
New  York  to-night."  He  was  on  the  threshold. 
"  I  give  you  two  weeks  in  which  to  decide."  He  was 
gone. 

If  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  observing  the  proc 
esses  of  her  own  mind,  she  would  have  been  astonished 
at  the  thoughts  that  at  once  pushed  in  there  and  made 
themselves  at  home.  Her  dislike  of  him  had  been  gain 
ing  steadily.  To  be  rid  of  the  constraint  of  his  pres 
ence,  rid  of  the  disturbance  his  coming  always  raised 
within  her,  and  to  have  a  fortune  as  her  very  own — 

167 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

She  began  to  cast  about  as  to  how  she  could  conform 
her  protestations  and  her  principles  to  acceptance. 

It  was  not  her  principles  that  drove  out  these 
thoughts,  but  a  sudden  return  of  jealousy.  "  Let  that 
woman  have  him?"  cried  she.  "  Never!  I'd  die  first. 
.  .  .  God  would  never  forgive  me  for  such  a  sin." 
That  was  it;  God  would  not  permit  her  to  go  into 
partnership  with  adultery.  "  For  the  sake  of  his  soul, 
I  must  make  him  give  her  up.  Yes,  I'll  make  him  give 
her  up.  I'll  show  him  whether  a  wife  has  rights  or  not. 
Riches  swell  men  with  pride  and  power,  and  they  for 
get  God  and  their  duty." 

There  she  remembered  how  she  had  been  brought 
up,  how  just  was  his  reminder  that  they  were  taught 
that  divorce  was  as  sacred  as  marriage,  was  a  bulwark 
of  morality,  of  the  home — the  real  home  that  did  not 
rest  upon  mere  sexual  fidelity  but  upon  the  deeper 
fidelity  to  the  spirit  of  marriage.  She  thrust  back 
these  ideas,  helpful  though  they  were  to  her  longing 
to  be  free  and  rich  and  comfortable.  "  I've  learned 
better,"  she  told  herself.  "  It's  only  among  the  trashy 
and  the  sinful  that  divorce  is  tolerated."  And  yield 
ing  to  the  low-spirited  mood  which  always  closed  in 
soon  after  a  meal,  she  fell  to  picturing  herself  the 
lonely,  discarded  wife  and  mother,  victim  of  a  heartless 
husband  who  was  treating  her  like  a  rifled  honeycomb. 
She  burst  into  tears  and  rang  the  bell  for  Katy. 

"  Send  Charley  to  me,"  she  sobbed. 


XI 

MOTHER    AND    SON 

CHARLEY  had  to  be  roused  from  a  sound  sleep.  He 
was  at  a  dance  the  night  before,  had  not  got  home  until 
five.  At  his  mother's  summons,  delivered  hysterically  by 
Katy,  he  thrust  his  feet  into  bath  slippers,  swathed 
himself  in  a  blue  silk  robe,  and  hurried  along  the  hall 
to  her  sitting  room.  "  What  is  it,  mother  ?  "  he  cried. 
She  made  no  answer,  but  continued  to  sob  heartbrokenly. 

"  Shall  I  send  for  the  doctor?  "  He  glanced  at  the 
tray,  still  on  the  table  before  her.  "  You  know  you 
oughtn't  to  take  cream  in  your  coffee,"  he  reproached. 
"  The  doctor  warned  us  it  makes  blisters  on  the  liver." 

"  Shut  the  door,  Charley,"  she  sobbed. 

He  obeyed. 

«  Your  father—"  she  moaned.     "  O  my  God !  " 

"Father!     Is  he  hurt?  " 

"O  God!  No— no!  If  it  were  merely  that! 
Charley,  your  father  wants  to  marry  a  low  woman." 

The  boy  started  back  in  horror.  "  Mother !  "  he  ex 
claimed.  "  Who  handed  you  that  pipe  dream  ?  It's 
false.  Why,  father  wouldn't  do  such  a  rotten  thing !  " 

"  I  knew  my  children  would  stand  by  me !  " 

"  But  it  isn't  true,  mother.     He's  been  lied  about." 

"  He  told  me  himself — in  that  very  chair — not  half 
an  hour  ago." 

Charley  stared  stupidly  at  the  vacant  chair.  "  Im- 
12  169 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

possible!"  he  muttered.  "Not  father!"  And  he 
seated  himself  in  it. 

"  Yes,  your  father.  Go  to  him.  Tell  him  what  you 
think  of  him!" 

"  You  didn't  understand  him,  mother." 

"O  God!"  wailed  Sophy.  "Is  my  boy  against 
me?  I  tell  you,  Charley,  he  ordered  me  to  divorce  him, 
to  free  him  so  he  could  marry  that  Raeburn  woman." 

"  Juliet  Raeburn !  "  exclaimed  the  boy,  leaping  to  his 
feet.  "  Mother,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  He  came  here  and  insulted  me,  his  wife,  your 
mother " 

Up  boiled  the  boy's  young  blood,  into  his  mind 
flashed  a  score  of  trifling  incidents  of  that  stay  in  the 
woods,  incidents  now  saturated,  rank,  with  sinister 
meaning.  Without  a  word  he  darted  out  and  down  to 
the  library.  He  did  not  pause  to  knock,  but  burst  in. 
Murdock  was  at  his  table  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
writing.  The  long  French  windows  were  open  and  the 
light  and  air,  sweeping  round  his  strong  figure,  seemed 
to  encircle  it  with  an  impassable  barrier.  Before  his 
father  glanced  up,  the  boy  was  beginning  to  hang  back. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Murdock,  in  his  even,  friendly  yet 
reserved  tone. 

"  Is  it  true,  father  ? — what  mother's  been  telling 
me?  "  stammered  Charley. 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  Murdock,  with  no  change  of 
tone  or  expression.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  the  boy,  but 
dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink  and  poised  it  above  the  paper. 

The  boy  flushed,  hesitated,  half  turned  away.  Then, 
catching  fire  again  from  his  outraged  mother,  he  forgot 
his  awe  and  cried :  "  You  sha'n't  dishonor  my  mother 
and  my  sister !  " 

Just  the  hint  of  a  flush  came  into  Murdock's  cheeks. 
170 


MOTHER   'AND   SON 


His  tone  was  even — but  like  the  smooth  surface  of  a 
white  hot,  molten  lake — as  he  said :  "  You  are  making  a 
fool  of  yourself.  She  is  your  mother,  but  I  am  your 
father.  She  and  I  are  wife  and  husband — and  no  one 
will  interfere  in  our  affairs.  Close  the  door  after  you." 
And  his  pen  resumed  its  rapid  course  along  the  sheet. 

The  boy  could  no  more  have  disobeyed  or  have 
spoken  again  than  if  he,  bound  and  gagged,  were  being 
carried  from  the  room.  In  the  hall  outside,  he  wiped 
the  streaming  sweat  from  his  face,  dropped  weakly  on 
the  lowest  step  of  the  front  stairway.  In  at  the  open 
front  doors  came  Norma,  whistling  and  swinging  her 
hat  by  its  long  ribbons.  The  morning  was  intoxicat- 
ingly  fine,  and  her  spirits  were  soaring  and  darting  like 
a  lark  drenched  and  drunk  with  sunshine.  "  Hello, 
Charley  boy,"  she  cried,  kissing  the  top  of  his  bent  head 
and  slapping  him  on  the  back.  "  Walking  in  your 
sleep  ?  Mother  up  yet  ?  " 

Her  brother  drew  her  down  beside  him.  Though 
there  were  no  servants  in  sight,  he  whispered  in  her  ear : 
"  Mother  and  father  are  going  to  get  a  divorce." 

To  his  amazement,  the  news  gave  her  no  shock  of 
surprise.  "  So  it's  come  at  last ! "  she  exclaimed,  be 
fore  she  realized  what  she  was  saying. 

Charley  stared  at  her.  "  How  did  you  find  out  ?  "  he 
cried,  after  a  prolonged  stare  at  her. 

But  she  had  recovered  herself;  she  now  looked,  and 
felt,  as  overwhelmed  as  he.  Instinctively  she,  under 
standing  feminine  human  nature,  began  to  sympathize 
with  her  father,  just  as  her  brother,  understanding  mas 
culine  human  nature  better  than  feminine,  took  sides 
with  his  mother. 

"  Do  you  know  about  Juliet  Raeburn,  too  ?  " 

"  Juliet  Raeburn !  "  But  even  as  Norma  exclaimed, 
171 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

she  understood.  "  O  Charley ! "  she  cried,  "  and  I 
thought  her  a  good  woman ! " 

"  So  she  is,"  maintained  Charley.  "  He  hasn't  got 
her  yet.  I'll  bet  she  doesn't  dream  of  this." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  conceded  Norma,  in  confusion.  She 
remembered  that  she  had  decided  it  was  best  not  to  tell 
Charley  or  their  mother  about  the  meeting  and  the  dis 
covery  at  Dangerfield's.  "  Why,"  thought  she,  amazed 
at  the  revelation  of  herself  to  herself,  "  I  must  have  felt 
then  that  this  was  coming !  " 

"  You  must  talk  to  father,"  Charley  was  saying. 
"  He'll  listen  to  you." 

Norma  slowly  shook  her  head. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  do  anything?"  demanded 
Charley.  "  I  tell  you,  Norma,  this  thing  must  be 
stopped." 

"  But  we  mustn't  say  anything  to  either  of  them — 
directly."  She  hesitated,  then  went  on :  "  Marriage  has 
already  taught  me  that  nobody  can  judge  between  hus 
band  and  wife.  Nobody  can  know  but  just  their  two 
selves." 

"  It's  all  his  fault,"  protested  Charley,  with  almost 
hysterical  energy.  "  At  least,  we  know  enough  to  know 
he's  got  no  cause  of  any  kind.  Why,  she's  always  at 
home,  and  she  never  spoke  a  really  harsh  word  to  him. 
The  truth  is,  he  has  gotten  the  swollen  head  through 
being  lucky  in  business,  and  has  grown  away  from  us." 

"  Don't  say  those  things  to  mother,  please,"  en 
treated  Norma.  "  You'd  only  encourage  her  to  make 
matters  worse." 

"  But — the  disgrace !     The  disgrace !  " 

"  Nobody  can  disgrace  you  but  yourself,"  was  her 
tranquil  reply. 

Her  brother  eyed  her  disapprovingly.  "  Just  like  a 
172 


MOTHER   AND   SON 


woman !  Women  never  do  care  anything  about  each 
other's  sufferings.  Not  even  your  own  mother's  sor 
row  moves  you." 

"  Perhaps  I  understand  her  better  than  you  do,"  re 
plied  Norma  absently. 

"  Well — anyhow,  all  I  know  is  it's  got  to  be 
stopped ! " 

"  You  go  and  get  dressed,"  said  his  sister.  "  I'll 
see  mother." 

Mrs.  Murdock  had  by  this  time  somewhat  composed 
herself.  When  she  saw  it  was  not  Charley  but  Norma 
entering  she  refrained  from  bursting  out  afresh.  Un 
less  a  woman  is  far  more  studied  or  far  less  sensible 
than  was  Sophy,  she  does  not  raise  to  another  woman 
the  suspiciously  clamorous  conventional  appeals  for  sym 
pathy.  Norma  went  straight  to  her  and  kissed  her. 
"  Charley  has  told  me,"  she  said. 

Charley  had  not  noted  his  mother's  dishevelment, 
but  no  detail  of  it  escaped  Norma ;  woman,  looking  at 
woman,  is  always  scrutinizing.  Besides  Norma,  whirled 
in  so  many  respects  to  the  opposite  extreme  from  Sophy 
by  the  warning  example  of  physical  and  mental  slothful- 
ness,  was  so  particular  about  her  person  that  she 
changed  never  less  than  twice  a  day  throughout.  As  sbe 
kissed  her  mother,  she  held  her  breath  that  she  might 
avoid  at  least  the  worst  of  the  odor  from  the  stale,  musty, 
oily  hair. 

"  If  I  hadn't  been  so  devoted  to  my  household,  I'd 
have  seen  it  coming,"  said  Sophy.  "  All  the  men  act 
that  way  nowadays."  Her  lip  quivered.  "  It's  the  curse 
of  riches.  If  we'd  'a'  been  poor,  your  father  would  have 
stayed  on,  a  hard-working,  steady  family  man,  appre 
ciating  his  home  and  his  wife  and  children." 

"  A  good  many  poor  people  act  the  same  way,"  sug- 
173 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

gested  Norma.  "  It  seems  to  me,  more  poor  people  do 
it  than  rich.  The  rich  are  more  conventional,  more 
afraid  of  public  opinion." 

"  So  you're  turning  against  me !  "  cried  Sophy.  "  I 
might  have  known.  The  daughter  always  sides  against 
the  mother." 

"  Why,  mother !  "  exclaimed  Norma.  "  What  did  I 
say  to  make  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  Weren't  you  beginning  to  urge  excuses  for  your 
father?  Have  you  opened  your  lips  for  a  single  word 
against  him?  " 

"  I  love  him,  mother,  and  I  love  you.  I  couldn't  say 
anything  against  either  of  you." 

"  Not  when  he  shows  he's  become  a  wicked  man,  and 
tries  to  cast  your  mother  off !  "  And  Sophy  began  to 
weep.  "  My  daughter  may  turn  against  me,  but  no  one 
else  in  all  the  world  will.  Everybody'll  despise  him  and 
sympathize  with  me." 

Norma,  knowing  the  shallowness  of  feminine  tears 
and  having  before  her  very  eyes  as  well  as  in  painful 
memory  what  seemed  to  her  sufficient  reasons  why  her 
mother  did  not  charm,  felt  her  heart  going  out  to  her 
father.  She  reproached  herself,  but  she  could  not  help 
it.  "  And,  really,  with  such  eyes  and  teeth  and  so  much 
naturally  lovely  hair  mother  could  be  beautiful  if  she'd 
only  brace  up."  Aloud  she  said  gently :  "  You  wrong) 
j  me,  mother.  I'd  never  take  sides  against  you.  I'll  take 
no  side  at  all.  I'll  keep  on  loving  you  and  father,  and 
believing  the  best  of  both  of  you." 

"  You'd  better  be  careful,  miss !  "  cried  Sophy.  "  If 
your  father  and  I  do  part,  I'll  have  half  the  property, 
and  he'll  have  another  woman.  I  can't  believe  he'll  be 
fool  enough  to  take  her  to  church  and  give  her  the  right 
to  pick  his  pockets.  Still,  she'll  likely  get  most  of  it. 

174 


MOTHER   AND   SON 


You  don't  seem  to  know  which  side  your  bread's  but 
tered  on." 

Norma's  heart  ached  and  she  hung  her  head  in 
shame.  Presently  she  said  timidly :  "  Would  you  mind, 
mother,  if  I  went  to  see  father  ?  I'm  not  going  to  speak 
to  him  about  this,  unless  he  mentions  it  first.  And  if  I 
do  say  anything,  it'll  be  to  try  to  bring  him  to  you." 

Sophy,  with  no  more  power  to  persist  in  anger  than 
in  any  other  exertion,  seized  gratefully  upon  this  offer. 
"  I  know  none  of  my  children  would  act  any  way  but 
honorable,"  said  she.  "  They've  been  too  well  brought 
up."  And  now  she  wept  again.  "  When  I  think  how 
I  carried  and  bore  and  watched  over  his  children —  O 
my  God !  Why  hast  Thou  punished  'me  ?  " 

Norma  knelt  beside  her  mother.  "  Mother  dear," 
she  pleaded  softly,  "  if  father  is — what  you  say, 
wouldn't  you  be  better  off  without  him?  Wouldn't  he 
be  only  a  torment  to  you  ?  " 

"  I've  thought  of  that,"  conceded  Sophy,  trapped 
into  candor.  Then,  remembering  her  pose  and  her 
principles,  she  pushed  her  daughter  away  and  burst  out 
again :  "  How  dare  you  suggest  such  a  thing,  Norma 
Murdock!  He's  my  husband!  He's  mine  I  And  have 
you  no  sense  of  shame  ?  Don't  you  care  anything  about 
scandal?  You  talk  like  those  trash  along  the  river  front 
that  are  always  getting  into  the  divorce  courts." 

"  I  was  only  trying  to  imagine  what  I'd  do  in  the 
same  circumstances." 

"  You  wait  till  Joe  goes  off  after  another  woman ; 
then  we'll  see  what  you'll  do !  " 

"  I'm  sorry  I  said  that,"  apologized  Norma,  not  be 
cause  she  was  in  the  least  affected  by  a  suggestion  so 
preposterous,  but  to  stay  the  storm. 

"  Oh,  that  woman,  that  woman ! "  Sophy  was  pa- 
175 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

cing  the  floor,  her  face  distorted  with  fury.  "  I'll  drag 
her  down.  I'll  disgrace  her.  I'll  have  her  thrown  into 
jail." 

Rage,  even  the  most  righteous,  cannot  but  affect 
the  spectator  painfully.  Norma  had  been  by  years  of 
daily  sight  used  to  thinking  of  her  father  and  mother 
as  related  only  through  their  children,  had  been  forced 
in  spite  of  herself  to  see  that  her  mother  was  far  from 
the  dawning  day's  more  enlightened  ideal  of  womanhood, 
was  of  the  older  generation's  less  exacting  type,  while 
her  father  had  kept  pace  with  the  world's  swift  develop 
ment.  Nor  could  she,  though  by  no  means  the  most  crit 
ical  of  daughters,  deny  that  her  mother  had  refused,  re 
sisted  even,  the  best  possible  opportunities  to  progress 
and  develop.  Yet  Norma  was  no  partisan  to  her  father ; 
his  abrupt  and  rude  proposal  shocked  her  more  and 
more  profoundly,  as  she  reflected  on  it.  "  He'd  never 
be  doing  this  if  he  hadn't  been  infatuated  and  edged  on 
by  another  woman,"  she  said  to  herself.  Women,  what 
ever  they  may  say  for  men's  benefit,  all  share  in  the 
feminine  delusion  of  sex  vanity  that  the  woman  alone  is 
responsible  for  the  ensnared  male;  Norma  felt  that  her 
mother's  characterization  of  Juliet  Raeburn  was  hardly 
exaggerated.  "  Only  a  bad  woman,"  thought  she, 
**  ever  so  much  as  looks  at  another  woman's  husband." 
Yes,  her  mother  was  right ;  this  woman  was  entrapping 
her  father  for  his  money  only.  But  how  could  he,  the 
strong,  the  noble,  permit  himself  to  be  dragged  into 
an  intrigue?  That  mystery  shook  her  faith  in  all  men, 
strengthened  her  honeymoon-born  suspicion  that  love,  as 
men  understood  and  felt  it,  was  a  vastly  different  emo 
tion  from  what  she  had  been  thinking,  was  coarser,  less 
elevated  and  elevating,  was  perhaps  degrading.  First, 
Joe ;  now,  her  own  father —  "  I  feel  as  if  I  were  on  the 

176 


MOTHER   AND   SON 


verge  of  some  horrible  discovery,"  she  thought,  sick  at 
heart. 

Sophy's  ravings  were  gradually  subsiding,  as  Norma 
sat  dumb,  lost  in  the  black  fog  of  her  own  thoughts,  and 
so  gave  her  no  fresh  fuel.  "  Your  turn'll  come,"  her 
mother  was  now  saying  to  her.  "  You  won't  be  new 
and  fresh  forever.  A  few  years,  and  you'll  look  back 
on  to-day,  on  your  heartlessness,  and  be  ashamed  of  it." 

A  shudder  of  disgust  went  through  Norma.  If  that 
were  love,  all  of  love,  then  she  would  despise  the  man 
who  felt  it,  would  feel  abased  by  having  inspired  and 
submitted  to  it.  Charley  now  came  in,  swelling  and 
swaggering.  "  I've  been  thinking  it  over,  mother,"  he 
at  once  began.  "  And  it  seems  to  me,  if  he  wants  to  go, 
the  best  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  make  him  get  out  quick. 
I  can  never  again  feel  toward  him  as  a  fellow  should  feel 
toward  his  father.  And  you  must  despise  him.  Every 
time  you  looked  at  him,  you'd  think  of  the  vile  thoughts 
going  on  in  his  head." 

"  He's  been  led  away  by  that  low  woman,"  insisted 
Sophy,  dismayed  by  the  defection  of  her  one  sure  ally. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,  mother,"  said  Charley  author 
itatively,  in  his  innocence  of  the  workings  of  woman  na 
ture.  "  I  was  out  there  in  the  woods  with  them,  and  the 
very  minute  she  found  out  he  was  a  married  man,  she 
froze  up.  And  before  that,  she  positively  kept  out  of  his 
way — out  of  our  way,  I  mean.  We  had  to  force  ourselves 
on  her,  almost.  I  tell  you,  it's  his  fault — nobody  else's." 

"  You  don't  understand  women,  you  little  fool,"  re 
torted  his  mother  angrily.  "  That  was  part  of  her  cun 
ning.  Women  can  always  make  idiots  of  the  men  if  they 
want  to." 

Charley  was  forced  to  abandon  that  point,  though 
unconvinced.  "  Anyhow — if — if  he — wants  to  go,  whyj 

177 


OLD    WIVES  FOB   NEW 

— let  him!  Good  riddance!  He's  never  been  much  in 
this  house,  anyhow — always  thinking  about  his  business 
• — shut  up  in  the  library  in  the  evenings.  No,  he'll  not 
be  missed." 

Sophy  and  her  daughter  glanced  furtively  at  each 
other;  both  reddened,  as  each  thus  surprised  the  other 
in  the  same  thought — that  the  house  itself,  its  luxury, 
all  the  luxury  which  had  enswathed  them,  all  the  money 
which  had  been  promptly  supplied  to  gratify  their 
smallest  material  fancy,  to  provide  education  for  the 
children,  and  the  social  environment  that  was  regarded 
as  the  best — all,  all  had  been  supplied  by  the  man  whom 
this  boy  was  now  saying  "  never  amounted  to  much  in 
this  house."  In  the  strained  silence  Charley  had  time  to 
reflect,  saw  his  own  blunder. 

"  Of  course,  he  has  provided  for  us,"  he  hastened  to 
add.  "  But  the  law  and  public  opinion  would  have  com 
pelled  him  to  do  that,  if  he  had  tried  to  get  out  of  it." 

"  Indeed  it  would !  "  exclaimed  Sophy,  with  a  tria 
umphant  look  at  her  daughter.  "  You  can't  even  put 
forward  that  excuse  for  him." 

"  Has  Norma  been  trying  to  excuse  him  ?  "  cried  her 
brother,  turning  on  his  sister  with  a  frown.  He  now  felt 
himself  the  head  of  the  family  and  the  arbiter  of  its 
opinions. 

"No,  I  haven't,"  retorted  Norma  hotly.  "But 
mother  is  trying  to  make  out  that  I  have,  because  I  can't 
forget  he's  my  father."  Her  indignation  swelled. 
"  Yes,  he  is  my  father,  and  since  you  force  me  to  say  it, 
mother,  I  can't  but  feel  that  if  you  had  done  your 
share,  this  would  never  have  occurred." 

The  instant  the  words,  so  useless,  so  unwise,  were 
out,  she  repented  them.  Her  mother  and  her  brother 
trained  upon  her  the  lowering  look  for  the  traitor., 

178 


MOTHER   AND   SON 


"  Turned  against  your  own  mother !  "  sneered  Charley. 
"  Shame  on  you,  Norma !     Shame !  " 

"  Instead  of  trying  to  make  matters  worse  between 
father  and  mother,  hadn't  you  better  try  to  heal  the 
wounds?  " 

"  Matters  couldn't  be  worse.  Father  has  forfeited 
all  claim  on  us,"  retorted  her  brother  loftily.  "  If  you 
had  real  good  sense,  you'd  see  it's  impossible  for  matters 
ever  to  be  again  as  they  were.  All  mother  can  do  is 
what  she's  going  to  do — refuse  to  get  a  divorce  from 
him.  He  can't  get  one  from  her.  So  there'll  be  no 
public  scandal,  and  things'll  go  on  just  as  they  are — he 
an  outcast  from  us." 

All  at  once  it  burst  upon  Norma  what  it  was  they 
were  thus  frankly  discussing — the  rending  apart  of  the 
bonds  that  are  the  sacredest,  the  destruction  of  the 
home.  And  they  were  dissecting  the  situation,  not  with 
aching,  mourning  hearts,  but  with  anger  and  recrimina 
tion  and  mental  reservations  of  repulsive  materialism. 
She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  "  Oh,"  she  moaned, 
"  this  is  frightful.  Frightful !  "  Yes,  the  foundations 
of  their  family  life  must  have  been  flimsy  and  rotten, 
thus  easily  to  give  way.  And  again  her  sympathy  went 
out  to  her  father.  "  He's  going  because  he  can't  stand 
it  any  longer.  If  it  hadn't  been  Juliet  Raeburn,  it'd 
have  been  some  other  woman,  sooner  or  later.  And 
maybe  she,  bad  though  she  must  be,  will  give  him 
something  better  than  he's  been  getting  here."  And 
now  she  pressed  hard  against  the  door  of  her  mind  to 
keep  back  the  thoughts  that  were  trooping  in,  their 
ugly  disloyal  faces  smirking — thoughts  of  how  her 
mother  had  degenerated  in  mind  and  in  looks  ever  since 
she  could  remember;  thoughts  of  the  confusion  and 
slovenliness  and  wastefulness  of  her  mother's  housekeep- 

179 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

ing ;  pictures  of  her  father  again  and  again  starting  an 
outburst  of  exasperated  protest  and  suppressing  his 
anger  and  going  away  that  he  might  not  be  tempted 
to  set  a  bad  example  to  the  children.  And  there,  before 
her  eyes,  sat  her  mother,  her  own  self's  arch  accuser — 
her  mother,  slovenly  in  dress,  indifferent  to  all  that  must 
be  incessantly  seen  to  if  intimate  life  is  not  to  degen 
erate  toward  the  sty  and  the  den.  Norma,  saying  in 
a  suffocating  voice,  as  excuse  for  leaving,  "  I'll  be 
back,"  fled  the  room. 

"  I  hate  myself !  I  hate  myself ! "  she  muttered. 
"Mother'd  not  have  been  like  that  if  lie  had  done  his 
best  to  keep  her  what  a  wife  should  be.  It's  his  fault, 
for  he  has  the  better  mind  and  the  stronger  character. 
He  hasn't  done  his  duty  as  a  man,  and,  like  a  coward, 
he's  skulking  from  the  consequences."  Yet  was  it  just 
deeply  to  blame  him?  He  had  had  his  own  part,  the 
living,  to  look  after.  She  had  let  him  outgrow  her,  was 
bitter  because  he,  too,  was  not  a  rotter.  In  flying  from 
her  wasn't  he  only  human?  ...  It  was  all  appalling  and 
repulsive  to  her — and  most  repulsive  was  her  own  dis 
loyal  self,  criticising  her  parents.  Of  the  many  penal 
ties  for  having  a  thinking  mind,  not  the  least  heavy  is 
its  refusal  to  bow  to  illusions,  however  satisfying,  how 
ever  sacred. 


XII 

FATHER    AND    DAUGHTER 

RUSHING  forth  in  flight  from  herself,  she  sought  in 
stinctively  the  little  summer  pavilion,  overhanging  the 
river  and  the  valley.  Not  until  she  was  in  its  very  en 
trance  did  she  see  that  some  one  was  there  before  her — 
her  father,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  his  erect 
figure  rigid,  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  horizon.  At  the 
sound  of  her  foot  upon  the  threshold,  he  slowly  turned. 
!At  sight  of  her  his  expression  changed  to  one  that  smote 
upon  her  heart.  She  had  inherited  many  of  his  mental 
characteristics,  but  physically  she  was  her  mother  at 
seventeen ;  and  before  him  there  rose  a  vision,  shaken 
wholly  free  from  the  dust  of  long  years  of  oblivion  and 
bright  and  distinct  as  at  its  first  appearance — the  vision 
of  Sophy  advancing  through  the  tall  grass  of  the 
meadow,  her  flowerlike  face  radiant  with  the  light  that 
streams  upon  the  beautiful  human  countenance  only  in 
life's  morning.  The  other  hours  of  a  life  even  down  to 
evening's  dusk  may  have  each  its  own  kind  of  charm; 
but  none  is  so  altogether  lovely  as  that  first  full  morn 
ing  hour  when  day  closes  the  dark  door  of  night  be 
hind  her  and  stands  forth  with  the  dew  sparkling  in 
her  tresses. 

"  Father !  "  murmured  Norma,  half  stretching  out 
her  arms  to  him. 

The  look  of  pain  shifted  and  his  face  became  immo- 
181 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

bile  again.  If  his  wife  had  been  dead,  that  vision  of 
her  youth  would  have  lingered,  might  perhaps  have  be 
come  a  permanent  fixed  illusion  with  him — for  we  usu 
ally  remember  the  dead  at  their  best.  But  Sophy  was 
a  living  fact;  and  to  remember  what  she  had  been  was 
to  shrink  the  more  coldly  from  what  she  was,  as  the 
falseness  of  a  found-out  friend  is  aggravated  by  the 
recollection  of  the  feelings  he  once  inspired  in  us.  Death 
alone  can  expiate  a  violated  ideal. 

"  Father !  "  Norma  repeated  appealingly. 

His  face  softened  again.  A  slight  smile,  amused, 
cynical,  hovered  over  the  sternness  of  his  eyes  and  lips. 
"  You  have  seen  your  mother,"  he  said,  seating  himself, 

"  Yes." 

"  And  your  brother." 

"  Yes." 

A  long  pause ;  then  he :  "  I  count  on  your  good  sense 
to  keep  you  from  doing  or  saying  things  that  will  en 
courage  your  mother  in  hysterics  for  the  benefit  of 
others.  I  have  not  acted  without  reflection.  What  she 
and  I  are  about  to  do  is  the  best  possible  course  for  us 
both,  is  as  necessary  to  her  comfort  as  to  my  happiness. 
We  both  realize  that  the  present  conditions  are  intoler 
able.  There  is  but  the  one  solution.  Fortunately,  it  is 
complete  and  entirely  satisfactory.  If  you  came,  as 
Charley  did,  to  discuss  the  matter  with  me,  I  wish  to 
tell  you  discussion  is  useless." 

"  It's  none  of  our  business,  father."  Wistfully, 
"  If  only  there  were  some  way  to  avoid  the — the  gossip 
and  scandal." 

"  That  rests  with  your  mother." 

"  Won't  you  see  her  again,  father  ?  Won't  you  tallc 
with  her  again  ?  "  - 

He  reflected  before  inquiring,  "Why  do  you  ast  it?, " 
182 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER 

"  Because  I  think —  It  was  nothing  she  said,  sim 
ply  an  instinct  that  she'll  talk  more  calmly  now — now 
she  has  had  a  chance  to — to  get  used  to  the  idea." 

He  reflected  again.  "  I'll  be  in  the  library  the  rest 
of  the  day.  There's  a  good  deal  of  straightening  out 
of  papers  to  be  done.  If  she  wishes  to  see  me,  I'll  go 
to  her." 

There  was  no  sign  of  dread  of  the  strain  of  an  in 
terview.  Evidently  he  felt  that  he  was  simply  con 
ducting  a  business  negotiation  with  some  one  in  whom 
he  had  no  personal  interest.  Norma  saw  this ;  but  it 
gave  her  no  shock,  no  sense  that  her  father  was  hard. 
Instead,  it  somehow  justified  him;  how  could  he,  so 
generous,  so  responsive  to  her  own  love  for  him,  feel 
thus  toward  his  wife  unless  there  were  reason  for  it? 
It  seemed  to  her  he,  the  strong  and  the  clear-sighted, 
was  simply  brushing  aside  the  cobwebs  of  conven 
tion  from  the  affair,  the  misleading  veilings  of  what 
conventionality  prescribed  as  the  "  proper  "  thoughts 
and  feelings  and  actions  in  such  circumstances,  and 
was  looking  straight  at  the  facts,  and  was  acting  fear 
lessly  upon  them,  as  they  appeared  to  him.  This  re 
lentless  disregard  of  the  fetishes  that  have  dominion 
over  all  but  the  strong  and  simple  and  direct,  both  ter 
rified  and  thrilled  her.  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to 
refuse  tribute  to  strength,  whether  it  be  found  in  the 
company  of  good  qualities  or  bad;  strong  fighter  for 
god  or  devil  is  always  equally  admired — and  fighter 
for  devil  has  the  added  charm  of  the  soldier  of  a  cause 
foredoomed  to  defeat.  Was  he  right  or  wrong — bad 
or  good?  She  was  not  sure;  but,  whichever  and  what 
ever  he  might  be,  she  was  proud  that  he  was  her  father. 
Her  young  disposition  to  foment  herself  with  the 
feeling  that  a  tragedy  was  enacting,  could  not  with- 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

stand  the  soothing  quality  in  his  equanimity.  They; 
walked  back  to  the  house  together  talking  quite  natu 
rally  of  indifferent  matters.  At  the  library  door  she 
said,  "  I'll  see  mother  right  away." 

He  put  his  arm  round  her,  held  her  close  to  him 
for  a  moment,  then  kissed  her  on  the  brow.  And  she 
understood  all  that  was  in  his  heart — the  things  he 
could  not  speak,  the  truth  as  he  saw  it  about  his  wife, 
and  about  his  right  not  to  be  tied  throughout  his  man 
hood  to  the  body  of  death,  but  to  be  free  to  live  his 
one  chance  at  life  as  he  wished,  as  his  powerful  will 
commanded  him  to  live  it. 

"  Thank  you,  Norma,"  he  said.  He  turned  hastily 
into  the  library,  but  not  before  she  had  seen  that  his 
eyes  were  glistening. 

Norma  expected — and  feared — she  would  find  her 
mother  reading  the  Bible — feared,  because  she  had 
learned  that  when  Sophy  was  determined  to  occupy 
high  and  inaccessible  ground,  she  got  out  her  Bible 
and  read  it  diligently.  Norma  was,  therefore,  relieved 
at  seeing  her  composedly  at  fancywork.  And  she  had 
done  her  hair,  had  washed  her  face  and  hands,  and  had 
got  into  a  cool  house  dress  that  would  have  been  be 
coming  had  it  not  been  much  too  heavily  laden  with 
that  least  artistic  and  showiest  of  all  the  laces.  She 
had  two  prime  resources  in  her  practical  moods  of 
trouble — novels  and  fancywork.  She  abounded  in 
sentimentality;  so  she  liked  as  a  counter-irritant  and 
solace  the  love  story  about  life  as  it  is  not  lived — 
though  romance  readers  and  the  whole  "  literary " 
cult  do  strive  valiantly  to  try  to  live  it  that  way« 
Sophy  was  a  great  novel  reader;  but  she  was  even 
fonder  of  fancywork — not  of  doing  it,  but  of  doing 

184 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER 

at  it.  All  forms  of  sewing  are  a  more  or  less  complete 
rest  for  the  mind;  fancywork  guarantees  absolute 
stoppage  of  thought,  which  must  suspend  while  the 
intricately  aligned  procession  of  stitches  makes  its  con 
tinuous  march  past. 

Thus,  Sophy's  emotions  had  subsided,  leaving  be 
hind  only  a  mournful  expression,  as  the  ebbed  tide  is 
still  imaged  in  the  sand.  When  her  daughter  en 
tered,  her  look  of  woe  became  actively  self-conscious. 
Through  it  she  frowned  reproachfully  as  at  an  un 
welcome  interruption.  The  frown  was  not  a  pretense; 
she  did  not  wish  to  resume  her  former  state  of  mind. 
It  would  be  altogether  artificial,  now  that  nature,  stim 
ulated  by  Murdock's  most  attractive  material  proposi 
tion,  had  downed  the  conventional  impulse  to  think 
and  act  as  a  respectable  woman  would  be  expected  by 
a  respectable  world  to  think  and  act  in  circumstances 
so  abhorrent  to  respectability.  Women  are  the  Le- 
vites  of  conventionality ;  but,  like  other  priestly  castes, 
familiarity  with  the  altars  they  serve  inclines  them  to 
be  reverent  of  the  cult  in  form  only,  to  be  almost,  if 
not  quite,  infidel  at  heart.  Mrs.  Murdock's  instantly 
snatching  up  her  mask  of  woe  at  first  sight  of  her 
daughter  was  followed  by  a  slower  laying  it  down ;  of 
what  use  to  mask  when  the  incomer  was  a  woman  also, 
and  her  own  daughter? 

"  He  wants  to  see  you  again,"  began  Norma.  The 
"  he  "  was  a  planned  compromise ;  she  feared  "  father  " 
might  irritate. 

Sophy  looked  alarmed  and  angry. 

"  I'm  sure  he'll  say  nothing  that  will  distress  you, 
mother,"  Norma  hastened  to  add;  and  she  spoke  ear 
nestly,  as  if  engaging  for  her  father's  good  behavior. 

"  I  never  want  to  set  eyes  on  him  again,"  said 
13  185 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Sophy  energetically.  "  And  I'll  never,  never  consent 
to  give  him  up.  Never !  "  And  she  bent  to  her  fancy- 
work,  as  if  the  matter  were  concluded. 

It  was  at  Norma's  lips  to  say,  "  Perhaps  it  won't 
be  necessary  to  give  him  up."  She  forebore,  because 
she  felt  it  would  be  cruel  to  raise  false  hopes.  Instead, 
she  said,  "  I'm  sure,  mother  dear,  if  you  and  he  talk 
again,  you'll  come  to  a  better  understanding.  For 
the  sake  of  Charley  and  me,  won't  you  see  him  ?  " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  which  Norma  had 
closed  behind  her.  Norma  opened  it.  There  stood 
Murdock.  "  I  have  some  things  to  say  to  your 
mother,"  said  he  with  grave  politeness.  He  entered — 
and  there  did  not  live  the  human  being  who  could  have 
refused  to  yield  to  his  insistence ;  it  had  the  inevitable 
quality  of  the  unopposable  phenomena  of  nature. 
Norma,  as  she  left  the  room,  sent  an  appealing  glance 
first  to  him,  then  to  her  mother,  the  true  peacemaker's 
look  that  soothes  and  softens  and  irritates  not. 

He  seated  himself,  looking  toward  but  not  at  his 
wife;  his  gaze  wandered  uncertainly  over  the  elabo 
rate  centerpiece  she  was  making;  he  recognized  it  as 
one  he  had  seen  in  her  hands  from  time  to  time  for 
years.  "  Sophy,"  said  he,  "  on  thinking  it  over,  I  find 
I  was  too  abrupt  this  morning.  I  had  known  so  long 
what  was  in  your  mind  about  me  that  it  seemed  natural 
to  talk  as  if  we  had  discussed  it  before." 

The  sight  of  him— his  face  and  figure  particularly 
youthful  in  a  dark-blue  suit  of  handsome  rough  cloth, 
his  linen,  his  tie,  his  hair,  all  suggestive  of  youth  and 
regard  for  taste — the  sight  of  him  set  her  jealousy 
to  flaming  somberly  again.  She  forgot  for  the  mo 
ment  the  satisfaction  of  freedom  and  wealth,  the  moun 
tainous  troublesomeness  of  a  revengeful  course.  "  It's 

186 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER 

no  use  for  you  to  talk,"  retorted  she.  *'  I  won't  take 
part  in  any  immoral  bargains.  /  realize  that  I've  got 
to  meet  my  God  in  the  Great  Day.  And  so  have  you, 
Charles  Murdock!" 

"  Sophy,"  he  said  gently,  "  for  the  sake  of  the 
children,  let  us  settle  our  affairs  quietly.  I  will  see 
that  everything  is  arranged  for  you.  In  your  heart 
of  hearts  you  wish  to  be  free  from  me." 

His  words  echoed  pleasantly  in  her  ears ;  they  were 
a  simple  statement  of  what  seemed  to  her  sense  and 
truth.  "  It  ain't  what  you  wish  or  what  I  wish,"  re 
plied  she,  "  it's  what  a  Higher  Power  wishes." 

"  If  you  were  going  to  lose  anything  by  it  in  a  ma 
terial  way,"  continued  he,  imperturbably,  "  I'd  admit 
you  were  right.  But  you  will  gain,  not  lose.  In  every 
way  you  will  be  better  off." 

Her  hands  were  resting  listlessly  upon  her  fancy- 
work.  She  was  reflecting. 

"  Suppose,"  he  went  on,  "  I  were  to  withdraw  my 
offer,  and  insist  that  we  resume  the  old  life." 

Her  expression  stopped  him.  He  had  suspected, 
believed  that  she  was  in  fact  as  eager  as  he  to  be  free; 
but  he  had  not  known  it.  Now,  her  telltale  face,  her 
alarm  at  the  very  suggestion  of  resuming  the  life  of 
husband  and  wife  with  him,  assured  him  beyond  faint 
est  doubt  he  was  right  in  his  idea  that  he  could  not  feel 
as  he  did  toward  her  unless  she  felt  the  same  way  to 
ward  him.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  magnet  with 
one  pole  long  dead  and  the  other  alive;  and  jealousy 
after  marriage  is  a  passion  of  vanity,  not  of  love. 

"  Sophy,  at  the  very  suggestion  of  our  being  hus- 
hand  and  wife  again  doesn't  your  instinct,  your  con 
science  tell  you  it  would  be  a  sin  in  the  sight  of  God  ?  " 

She  did  not  reply  immediately,  and  he  waited  until 
187 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

she  should  have  absorbed  his  subtle,  yet  altogether 
sincere  argument.  "  But,"  she  finally  said,  like  one  who 
wishes  to  be  overborne,  "  we  must  think  of  the  children, 
of  the  example  we  set  to  them  and  to  others.  We 
made  our  bed;  we  must  lie  in  it." 

"  Since  it  was,  as  you  say,  we  that  made  the  bed," 
replied  he,  "  then  we  can  unmake  it.  Sophy,  let's  put 
aside  the  nonsense  that  might  scare  us  if  we  were  poor, 
obscure  people,  dependent  on  others  for  bread.  We 
can't  be  trampled  by  those  who  never  lose  an  oppor 
tunity  to  demonstrate  their  superior  morality  at  the 
expense  of  anyone  that  can't  strike  back.  They'll 
never  disturb  you;  they'll  cringe  before  you.  We  are 
strong  enough  to  do  as  we  wish."  He  rose  and  went 
slowly  toward  the  door,  his  hands  in  his  coat  pockets, 
a  cigarette  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth.  "  Think  it 
over,"  said  he.  "  I'm  sure  that,  when  you  do  decide, 
it  will  be  for  what  is  sensible,  what  is  best  for  us 
both." 

"  We've  made  our  bed ;  we've  got  to  lie  in  it,"  she 
repeated,  but  her  tone  did  not  fit  her  words. 

He  saw  he  had  said  enough,  had  succeeded  in  lead 
ing  her  to  face  the  facts  with  him — that  she  was  as 
willing,  if  not  quite  so  eager,  to  be  free  as  was  he. 
"  Don't  decide  in  a  hurry,"  he  said  in  his  practical, 
hysteria-forbidding,  sense-encouraging  way,  and  left 
her. 

Crossing  the  entrance  hall,  he  saw  Norma  on  the 
front  porch,  apparently  setting  out  for  home.  He 
called  to  her ;  when  they  met  in  the  doorway  he  asked : 
"  Would  you  mind  if  I  gave  you  the  Whitney  Place  at 
Point  Helen  instead  of  this?  I  think  perhaps  your 
mother  would  prefer  to  stay  on  here." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  she  instantly. 
188 


FATHER   rAND   DAUGHTER 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  gratefully.  "  Shall  I  see 
you  again  before  I  leave  ?  " 

"  Joe  and  I  are  dining  at  the  Hargraves," 

"  Perhaps  you'll  be  in  New  York  soon.  My  ad 
dress  is  always  The  Gotham." 

At  "  New  York  "  her  face  clouded ;  his  eyes  shifted. 
After  he  had  gone  on  into  the  library  she  still  stood 
there,  fogged  in  those  dark,  dreary  clouds  of  fancy 
that  rise  from  any  melancholy  situation  to  shut  out 
the  light,  to  fill  the  heart  with  vague  forebodings  of 
disaster.  "  But  I  must  go  home,"  she  thought,  rous 
ing  herself.  "  No,  I  must  first  tell  mother  she  is  to 
have  the  house."  And  then  it  flashed  on  her  that  she 
was  really  the  bearer  of  a  bribe,  a  gross  material  bribe 
from  her  father  to  her  mother.  For  was  not  the 
Eyrie  the  most  magnificent,  the  most  dominating  place 
in  that  region,  the  local  synonym  for  luxury?  She 
turned  from  the  stairway  that  invited  her  to  ascend 
to  her  mother;  she  started  across  the  lawns  toward  the 
road  down  the  bluffs.  At  the  edge  of  the  grove  she 
halted.  "  No,  I  must  tell  her.  It's  my  duty  to  do 
everything  possible  to  avoid  scandal." 

The  air  was  fragrant  with  heavy  autumnal  per 
fumes.  All  about  her,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
stretched  beauty  and  tranquillity — sparkling  river, 
graceful,  gently  sloping  hills,  tier  on  tier,  the  rich, 
greens  and  grays  and  browns  and  yellows  of  the  well- 
tilled  fields.  And  there  was  the  splendid  house,  so 
luxurious,  apparently  an  ideal  home  for  a  happy  family 
able  to  enjoy  all  that  is  good  in  the  world.  She  looked 
round,  sighed.  Then  she  gave  a  short,  bitter  laugh. 

She  returned  to  the  house,  found  her  mother  again 
in  a  state  of  suspended  mentality  over  the  intricacies 
of  the  centerpiece.  "  Father  has  given  me  another 

189 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

place  instead  of  this,"  said  she,  with  burning  cheeks 
and  eyes  downcast.  "  He  says  he  wants  this  for  you." 
As  her  mother  did  not  reply,  she  looked.  On 
Sophy's  listless  countenance  there  was  an  expression 
of  covert  satisfaction.  Evidently,  her  father  had  well 
measured  the  character  he  was  dealing  with.  "  Well," 
Sophy  now  said,  with  a  pretense  of  mournful  resigna 
tion,  "  I  reckon  it'll  be  as  comfortable  here  as  any 
where.  My  thoughts  are  more  on  the  next  world  than 
on  this." 


xm 

"  SHE    CARES    EVEN    LESS    THAN    HE  " 

As  lunch  time  drew  near  Sophy  began  to  worry  about 
facing  Murdock  again — how  to  act,  how  he  would  act, 
what  to  say  should  he  address  her — for,  of  course,  she 
would  not  speak  to  him  first,  nor  so  much  as  glance 
in  his  direction,  unless  he  should  compel  it.  Above  all, 
what  should  she  wear?  Just  why  this  seemed  impor 
tant  she  could  not  have  told;  but  she  felt  that  it  was, 
and  ransacked  her  wardrobe,  wonder-struck  Katy  as 
sisting. 

It  was  an  extensive  wardrobe — extravagant,  as 
most  of  its  contents  were  never  worn.  Sophy  was  one 
of  those  women  who  are  always  seeing  "  just  what  I 
wanted"  on  some  other  woman,  and  after  getting  some 
thing  as  nearly  like  it  as  they  can,  are  disgusted  with 
the  result.  There  are  women  with  no  taste  in  dress 
who  fancy  their  taste  matchless.  Sophy  knew  her  own 
lack;  her  delusion  took  the  form  of  the  hope  that 
others  would  not  realize  it,  and  she  encouraged  this 
self-deception  because  her  vanity  would  not  permit  her 
to  ask,  or  suffer  Norma  to  assist.  Choice  of  costume 
for  this  important  luncheon  finally  narrowed  to  a  black 
dress  covered  with  jet  and  a  pink  with  many  flounces 
and  much  lace. 

"  The  black's  too  heavy  for  such  a  hot  day?  "  said 
she  interrogatively  to  Katy. 

191 


OLD    WIVES   FOR  NEW 

"  It  suggests  a  funeral,  ma'am.  I  think  the  pink's 
elegant  and  younglike." 

"  The  black,"  decided  Sophy  promptly  and  with 
some  acidity.  "  It's  low  and  common  to  dress  out  of 
one's  time  of  life." 

"  Lor',  ma'am,  you  ain't  so  old,"  urged  Katy  with 
the  sincerity  of  the  simple  truth.  "  And  there's  noth 
ing  to  be  mournful  about." 

"  The  black,"  insisted  Sophy.  "  I  shall  never  wear 
anything  but  black  again." 

Just  then  the  butler  knocked.  Katy  went  for  the 
message  and  returned.  "  Mr.  Murdock  asks  to  be  ex 
cused  from  lunch.  He's  too  busy  with  clearing  up." 

Clearing  up !  Sophy  sank  down  at  her  dressing 
table  and  her  tears  ran  freely.  "  Clearing  up !  Oh, 
Katy,  I'm  miserable !  " 

Katy  pretended  to  be  astonished — and,  indeed,  she 
did  begin  to  wonder  if  the  "  upset  "  was  not  far  more 
serious  than  the  servants  had  discovered.  "  Is  Mr. 
Murdock  going  to  be  gone  long? "  asked  she,  eyes 
sparkling  with  curiosity. 

Sophy  with  difficulty  restrained  herself.  She  had 
the  habit  of  confiding  everything  to  Katy,  though  she 
had  been  warned  that  the  girl  was  a  tattler ;  but  for 
once  she  resisted.  "  I  don't  know  anything  about  his 
goings  and  comings,"  replied  she  tartly.  "  I  wasn't 
thinking  of  him." 

"  Eat  a  good  lunch,  ma'am,  and  you'll  feel  better. 
Nothing  makes  a  body  so  low-spirited  as  an  empty 
stomach." 

"I'll  take  my  lunch  here,"  said  Sophy.  "  No— 
there's  Charley.  .  .  .  Tell  him  to  go  down  to  Norma's 
for  lunch.  I  don't  believe  I  can  eat  anything — unless 
it'd  be  some  nice  cold  fish — with  jelly — and  a  cucumber 

192 


"SHE   CARES   EVEN  LESS" 

and  tomato  salad — with  plenty  of  dressing — and, 
maybe  ice  cream — and  only  one  piece  of  cake.  I'll  in 
dulge  myself  a  little  to-day,  as  I  feel  bad ;  I'll  take  cof 
fee  with  cream." 

"  That'll  do  you  good,  I'm  sure,"  said  Katy  with 
enthusiasm. 

Sophy  ate  heartily  and,  so  effective  was  the  com 
bination  of  acids  and  cream,  went  almost  immediately 
afterward  into  a  stupor — a  nap,  she  called  it — from 
which  she  did  not  awaken  until  nearly  four  o'clock. 
Her  head  was  aching  fiercely  and  her  heart  was  beat 
ing  and  fluttering  like  one  buried  alive  and  trying  to 
break  open  the  coffin.  "  Oh !  Oh ! "  moaned  she. 
"  His  carryings-on  are  killing  me.  It  just  shows  how 
sensitive  I  am.  Here,  I  thought  I  wasn't  affected  by 
his  wickedness  hardly  at  all;  and,  all  the  while,  my 
nerves  were  in  pieces." 

Meanwhile  Murdock  had  sent  Simcox  to  the  station 
to  make  arrangements  for  the  trip.  Except  the  de 
struction  of  certain  piles  of  papers  on  the  floor  and 
the  packing  of  certain  others  on  desk  and  table,  he  was 
ready  for  departure — for  final  departure — though  he 
had  been  working  less  than  three  hours.  During  those 
hours  he  was  too  engrossed  by  the  business  in  hand  to 
indulge  in  any  reflections  upon  the  impending  utter 
disruption  of  ties  which  had  seemed  so  close  for  so 
many  years.  When  the  work  was  dispatched,  and  he 
had  leisure  to  think,  still  he  had  no  inclination  to  re 
flect  on  the  tragic  side  of  what  he  was  doing.  Such 
reflections  would  have  seemed  to  him,  and  would  have 
been,  sheer,  shallow  theatricalism ;  and  Murdock  had 
neither  the  time  nor  the  pretentiousness  for  the  play 
within  the  play  that  most  people  find  necessary  in  the 
effort  to  conceal  their  insignificance  in  the  real  drama 

193 


OLD    WIVES  FOR  NEW 

of  life.  His  chief  sensation  was  of  relief.  He  was 
glad  to  go;  the  dead  past  had  buried  its  dead;  his 
place  was  with  life,  with  the  living,  with  the  future. 
And  that  chiefly  meant — Juliet  Raeburn.  When, 
where,  how,  he  did  not  know.  But  that  she  would  be 
his,  and  speedily,  he  no  more  doubted  than  he  doubted 
his  memory  of  the  look  he  had  twice  seen  in  her  dark- 
gray  eyes  or  the  power  of  the  inflexible  will  and  the 
ingenious  mind  that  had  thus  far  carried  him  wherever 
he  had  wished  to  go. 

Simcox,  returning  from  the  station,  met  Charley 
hesitating  at  his  father's  door.  The  young  man  looked 
relieved  at  sight  of  him.  "  Father  hasn't  gone  yet  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  the  gaunt,  funereal  valet. 

Charley,  with  all  his  father's  instinct  for  rule  and 
none  of  his  father's  force,  had  the  air  of  the  futile 
child  as  he  frowned  fiercely  and  stamped.  "  Answer 
me !  "  he  commanded. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  repeated  Simcox  respectfully. 
One  glance  at  him  should  have  been  enough  to  convey 
that  he  was  as  inviolably  mute  as  the  grave  he  so  vividly 
suggested. 

"  You  do  know,"  cried  the  youth.  "  Why  lie  to 
me?" 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Simcox,  not  a  change  in  his 
slow,  quiet  monotonous  voice  or  in  the  leatherlike  skin  of 
his  face.  "  My  duty  is  never  to  know  nothing." 

"  He's  in  there,"  said  Charley.     "  Open  the  door." 

"  Yes,  sir — if  you'll  stand  aside,  sir.  But  I  can't 
let  you  in." 

"  I  must  tell  him  mother  is  ill — very  ill,"  persisted 
the  young  man,  though  he  knew  Simcox,  knew  Mur- 
dock's  power  over  him — so  great  that  Simcox,  a  drunk 
ard  of  twenty  years,  had  on  entering  Murdock's  service 

194 


"SHE   CARES   EVEN   LESS" 

reformed  after  one  fall,  saying:  "  Liquor  don't  have  no 
charm  for  a  man  when  he  can  see  that  there  eye  of  Mr. 
M.'s  a-basilisking  at  him  from  the  bottom  of  the  glass 
or  bottle,  as  the  case  may  be." 

"  I'll  tell  him,  sir.    My  orders  are  positive." 
Charley   made  way.      Simcox  entered  the  dressing 
room  door,  closed  and  locked  it  behind  him.     He  went 
through   to   Murdock  who   was   at   the   library   table. 
"  Mr.  Charley  wishes  to  see  you,  sir,"  said  he. 

Murdock  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  With  one  of 
those  swift  shifts  of  his  from  hard  to  soft  he  suddenly 
became  tender,  and  his  very  eyes  seemed  to  be  the  out 
look  of  a  different  soul.  He  had  no  illusions  on  any 
subject,  not  even  on  the  subject  of  his  children.  He 
knew  his  son  through  and  through,  knew  that  he  was 
haughty  and  arrogant,  not  proud  and  masterful,  was 
without  real  force — was  "  just  what  is  to  be  expected  of 
the  sons  of  men  like  me."  But  at  the  same  time  he  took 
pride  in  his  real  merits,  his  good  looks,  his  truthfulness 
— though  he  could  not  but  admit  that  truthfulness  in 
those  who  have  nothing  to  gain  by  lying,  nothing  to 
fear  from  telling  the  truth  is  hardly  more  of  a  virtue 
than  chastity  in  an  unsought  woman  or  fidelity  in  an  in 
fatuated  and  accepted  lover.  His  impulse  was  to  see 
the  boy,  to  talk  with  him.  Yet  what  could  he  say  ?  To 
soften  the  boy  toward  him  would  be  to  alienate  him  from 
his  mother.  Murdock  reddened,  turned  his  face  so  that 
Simcox  could  not  see.  It  had  suddenly  flashed  upon 
him  that,  however  he  might  prate  about  his  right  to  be 
free,  to  lead  his  own  life,  to  rid  himself  of  a  weight  which 
it  was  destruction  to  carry,  still  the  truth  remained  that 
he  could  no  longer  face  with  straight  eyes  and  honest 
words  this  boy  of  his.  His  brow  clouded  and  his 
jaw  set. 

195 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW, 

"  He  wants  to  tell  you  that  Mrs.  Murdock  is  ill,"  in 
terrupted  Simcox. 

Murdock's  mood  changed  instantly — eagerly.  Men 
who  habitually  reach  directly  for  essentials  through  the 
fog  of  nonessentials  that  baffles  most  of  us  seem  to  be 
attended  by  a  sort  of  fatality  which  causes  essentials  to 
advance  to  meet  them.  Murdock  had  chanced  to  cross 
the  hall  just  as  Sophy's  luncheon  tray  was  on  its  way 
up  to  her.  "  111,"  he  therefore  now  said  to  himself. 
"  Naturally."  Then,  turning  toward  his  valet  with  his 
usual  inscrutable  face :  "  Tell  him  you  have  delivered  the 
message,  and  send  him  away." 

Simcox  obeyed,  and  in  a  moment  returned  to  report 
on  his  trip  to  the  station.  The  agent  had  got  a  dispatch 
from  Chicago  that  but  one  private  car  could  be  taken 
at  Saint  X,  because  two  were  already  on  from  Chicago, 
and  a  third,  that  of  the  president  of  the  road,  must  be 
taken  up  at  Cleveland.  "  As  it  is,  Mr.  Murdock,"  ex 
plained  Simcox,  "  they'll  have  to  crowd  the  ordinary 
passengers  into  the  Pullmans  like  sardines.  And  Mr. 
Berkeley,  sir,  spoke  for  this  evening  before  you  did." 
He  did  not  add  that  the  agent  had  said  that  if  this 
private-car  business  wasn't  stopped,  "  the  road'll  be 
given  up  to  haulin'  rich  thieves  about,  each  with  his  own 
car  just  as  if  cars  was  carriages." 

Murdock  took  hints  of  an  adverse  decree  of  fate  as 
mandates  to  resistance.  "  Order  a  special,  to  precede  or 
follow  the  express,"  said  he. 

"  They  can't  do  it,  sir.  The  express  runs  in  two  sec 
tions,  and  there  ain't  room  for  no  more  without  breaking 
up  the  whole  service.  Mr.  Berkeley's  man  was  there,  sir, 
and  he  made  the  suggestion  that  you  might  prefer  Mr. 
Berkeley's  company,  anyhow." 

There  was  a  click  of  the  soundless  bell  on  the  tele- 
196 


"SHE   CARES   EVEN  LESS" 

phone  at  Murdock's  elbow.  It  was  Berkeley,  inviting 
him — "  I'll  be  glad  to  take  you  as  far  as  Albany.  I 
switch  off  there  for  Canada.  Why  go  to  New  York, 
anyhow?  Why  not  come  with  me?  My  family '11  not 
be  along." 

Murdock  debated.  Now  that  an  alternative  offered 
it  came  to  him  that,  until  Sophy's  mind  was  adjusted  to 
his  plans  beyond  power  to  change,  he  would  do  well  to 
go  where  she  would  not  be  jealously  wondering  and 
speculating  about  his  doings.  Yes,  Canada  would  be 
wiser ;  undoubtedly,  Simcox  corresponded  with  some  one 
of  the  servants  at  the  Eyrie,  and  so  Sophy  would  hear 
only  news  tending  to  keep  her  jealously  quiet.  "  I'll 
go  with  you,  Tom,"  was  therefore  Murdock's  decision. 
Then  to  Simcox :  "  You  heard  ?  Please  change  my  bag 
gage  accordingly.  Mr.  Berkeley  and  I  will  fish  and 
perhaps  shoot." 

Within  an  hour  Sophy  had  the  news ;  as  it  came  when 
the  morphine  digestive  tablets  were  putting  her  at  physi 
cal  ease,  she,  without  understanding  why,  began  to  cast 
a  lenient,  longing  eye  upon  his  proposal  to  make  her 
rich,  free,  and  tranquil.  In  vain  she  reproached  herself 
for  thus  quickly  regarding  unshocked  such  an  immor 
ality  as  divorce.  Hers  was  the  normal  conscience ;  it  re 
sponded  only  to  the  conventionalities  as  to  right  and 
wrong.  And  soon  she  was  reflecting :  "  It  certainly 
would  be  sinful  in  the  sight  of  God  for  me  to  go  back 
to  him.  I  guess  ma  and  pa's  teachings  were  right. 
There's  more  fashion  than  real  religion  in  the  church  we 
go  to  now.  The  old  way  of  looking  at  those  things  was 
the  religious  way." 

She  heard  the  bustle  of  his  departure ;  but  she  had 
not  the  imagination  to  feel  its  significance,  to  have  even 
that  pang  of  the  melancholy  of  the  thing  that  is  finished 

197 


OLD    WIVES  FOR  NEW 

which  strikes  through  people  of  sentiment,  even  though 
they  are  relieved  and  glad.  But  Murdock  was  not  to 
escape  that  pang.  He  left  the  Eyrie,  unmoved,  feeling 
no  differently  than  when  he  had  left  it  for  brief  business 
journeys.  He  passed  the  house  where  they  had  spent 
all  but  the  two  first  and  the  last  years  of  their  married 
life ;  his  only  sensation  was  relief,  for  his  only  memories 
were  distasteful.  At  the  railway  station,  as  he  strode 
down  the  long  platform  toward  Berkeley's  car,  on  sid 
ing,  Norma  advanced  through  the  darkness.  Her  face 
was  suddenly  and  mistily  revealed  by  a  passing  train 
man's  lantern ;  he  halted.  Memory  flashed  before  him  a 
vivid  picture  of  his  bride  coming  to  Saint  X  to  join 
him  —  his  girl  bride  springing  into  his  eager  arms 
through  just  such  a  dimly  lit  darkness  as  this.  And  he 
lost  control  of  his  features,  of  his  feelings. 

"  Father — oh,  father,"  cried  Norma,  weeping  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Forgive  me,  dear,"  he  muttered,  sobbed,  rather. 
u  I  have  to  do  it.  I  don't  know  what  it  is  inside  me  that 
5drives  me  on,  but  I  couldn't  turn  back  if  I  would." 

He  clasped  her  close  to  him  and  then  drew  away  and 
rushed  from  her.  And  Norma  knew  that,  if  her  mother 
had  made  one  single  appeal  to  his  heart,  she  would  have 
broken  his  purpose.  "  But  she  didn't,"  thought  Norma. 
"  She  cares  even  less  than  he."  And  then  she  felt  ashamed 
of  her  woman's  harsh  judgment  of  woman — but  could 
not  dispute  its  justice. 


XIV 

"  WHAT    A    BEAST    YOU    ARE,    TOM  " 

MURDOCK,  in  camp  with  Berkeley,  a  hundred  miles 
northeast  of  Quebec,  was  soon  gratified  by  a  telegram 
from  his  lawyers  which  assured  him  that  matters  were 
progressing.  Sophy  had  accepted  Bailby  as  her  lawyer; 
suit  had  been  begun  and  it  had  been  arranged  with  the 
court  that  neither  party  need  appear  in  person,  and  that 
the  papers  would  be  sealed. 

"  How  could  we  get  along  without  the  lawyers  ?  " 
said  Murdock  to  Berkeley  that  afternoon.  "  No  matter 
what  a  man  wants  to  do,  his  lawyers  fix  it  for  him." 

They  were  canoeing  in  the  upper  edge  of  the  lake, 
in  the  deep  shadow  of  the  mountain.  A  breeze  that  was 
the  breath  of  the  vast  unbroken  wilderness  of  spruce  and 
pine  and  hemlock  and  fir  made  their  labor  the  keenest 
delight.  The  faint  plash  of  their  paddles  echoed  from 
the  cliffs,  so  still  was  it.  Now  and  then  a  mysterious 
sound  from  the  depths  of  the  dark  forest  told  of  some 
wild  creature  abruptly  changing  its  lurking  place.  Far 
away,  at  the  eastern  shore,  flocks  of  birds  never  seen  near 
the  haunts  of  man  were  stalking  and  swimming  about, 
tranquil  and  beautiful.  These  surroundings,  so  remote 
from,  untouched  of,  the  passions  and  prejudices  and 
plottings  of  men,  brought  out  the  dormant  reflective  side 
of  Murdock's  nature,  restored  his  sense  of  proportion, 
cleared  his  judgment.  In  Europe  men  accept  privilege 

199 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 


as  part  of  the  immutable  order  of  nature  and  society, 
because  they  and  their  ancestors  to  the  farthest  genera 
tion  have  never  known  anything  else,  and  the  idea  of 
equality  seems  an  Utopian  dream  of  the  philosophers. 
But  in  America,  especially  in  Western  America,  where 
equality  once  existed,  and  still  exists  as  a  tradition  and 
a  hope,  the  men  who  have  acquired  privilege  can  recall 
the  time  when  privilege  did  not  exist,  can  appreciate  its 
injustice.  They  accept  it;  but  not  as  a  right,  rather  as 
a  temporary  favoritism  which  they  are  more  or  less 
ashamed  to  enjoy.  Murdock,  deep  in  the  great  wilder 
ness,  was  seeing  both  sides  of  his  enterprises.  This  news 
of  the  eagerness  of  lawyer  and  judge  to  do  his  bidding 
made  him  here  smile  cynically,  where  in  civilization  he 
would  simply  have  accepted  it. 

"  Damned  rascals,"  he  went  on,  aloud  yet  all  but  un 
conscious  of  Berkeley,  "  but  damned  useful." 

66  Thinking  of  your  divorce?  "  said  Berkeley. 

Murdock  kept  his  stroke,  though  the  remark  was  a 
bomb. 

"  Didn't  think  I  knew,  eh?  " 

"  Hadn't  given  the  matter  thought." 

"  I'm  out  of  business  except  for  a  little  flyer  in 
Wall  Street  now  and  then,  to  meet  current  expenses. 
And  I  have  to  be  mighty  sure  I  know  just  how  the  cards 
are  stacked,  or  I  don't  go  in.  Yes,  I'm  clear  out  of  busi 
ness,  but — I  have  to  be  in  touch  with  what's  going  on 
among  the  insiders.  I've  got  sense  enough  to  know  that 
in  this  day  a  fellow  with  anything  worth  taking  has 
to  keep  on  guard,  or  they'd  soon  have  him  in  his  shirt. 
So  I  still  get  my  reports.  That  bit  of  news  about  you 
came  in  one  of  them  this  morning." 

Murdock  was  wondering  at  his  own  stupidity.  He 
could  not  plead  in  self -excuse  that  he  did  not  know  that 

200 


"WHAT   A    BEAST   YOU   ABE" 

everyone  in  finance,  great  and  small,  "  shadowed  "  those 
in  whom  he  was  interested  or  might  be  interested.  He 
himself  did  it,  knew  from  many  an  experience  how  diffi 
cult  it  was  to  keep  anything  a  secret. 

"  It  probably  won't  get  into  the  papers,"  continued 
Berkeley,  assuming  that  this  was  the  thought  troubling 
the  silent  paddler  behind  him.  "  It's  not  regarded  as 
honorable  to  peach  to  the  public  about  such  matters.  It 
does  no  good,  only  stirs  up  talk  of  the  loose  lives  of  the 
better  classes.  The  papers  publish  too  damn  much  of 
that  kind  of  thing.  They're  edging  the  people  on  to  ask 
all  sorts  of  fool  questions  about  how  it  happens  that 
some  are  so  rich  and  have  so  many  luxuries.  And  not 
one  of  the  envious  dogs  would  work  as  hard  as  you  and 
I  have  for  twice  our  money." 

"  So  it  was  hard  work  that  did  it,"  said  Murdock 
ironically.  In  his  critical  moods  he  was  cynical  about 
the  gospel  of  magnates  and  their  toadies  and  their  dupes 
that  great  wealth  and  great  labor  are  child  and  parent. 

Berkeley  grinned.  "  Anyhow,  I've  earned  my  rest," 
replied  he  complacently.  A  few  minutes  of  silent  pad 
dling,  and  he  began  again  with :  "  Gad,  Murdock,  I 
envy  you  your  nerve.  I've  almost  changed  my  mind 
about  divorce.  I  can  see  there's  something  to  be  said 
for  it.  ...  I  haven't  told  you,  but  she  has  begun  to 
cut  up  rough." 

"  Bessie — or  was  that  her  name?  " 

"  Jessie — hell !  I  don't  mind  her  flare-ups.  They're 
amusing.  All  women  have  a  fondness  for  private  the 
atricals,  and  Jessie,  passing  as  an  actress  —  though  I 
doubt  if  she  ever  was  on  the  stage,  even  in  the  chorus — 
Jessie  goes  in  for  tantrums  heavy.  Her  latest  play  is  to 
be  jealous.  She  pretends  she  loves  me,  threatens  to  have 
it  out  with  my  wife — threatens  all  sorts  of  things." 
14  '  £01 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

"  Better  look  out,"  suggested  Murdock  absently ; 
Berkeley's  "  affairs  of  the  heart "  did  not  interest  him. 
"  When  a  woman's  got  nothing  to  lose  and  everything 
to  gain  by  notoriety " 

Berkeley  laughed  easily,  cunning  in  his  good- 
humored,  sensual  face.  "  On  the  contrary,  she's  got  the 
most  powerful  interest  in  the  world  to  behave — the  money 
interest.  There's  nothing  that  dose,  raw  or  properly 
coated  with  respectability,  won't  do  with  the  fair  sex. 
I  don't  mention  that  sex  invidiously — it'd  be  quite  su 
perfluous  to  say  money  in  some  form  will  buy  any  part, 
or  all,  of  any  man.  It's  a  rotten  world,  Murdock.  But 
jolly — getting  jollier  every  day." 

More  silent  canoeing,  each  man  absorbed  in  his 
thoughts;  then  Berkeley  again  interrupted  Murdock's, 
this  time  with,  "  No,  I  was  referring  to  my  wife,  not  to 
Jessie." 

Murdock  did  not  give  the  encouragement  for  which 
he  paused. 

"  In  a  way,"  he  proceeded,  when  his  desire  to  talk 
recovered  from  the  rebuff  of  his  companion's  silence, 
"  my  domestic  affairs  are  in  apple-pie  order.  Then 
again —  Murdock,  would  you  think  it  was  in  her  to  be 
a — a  blackmailer?  "  Berkeley  stopped  paddling,  leaned 
half  round  in  the  canoe,  all  but  upsetting  it. 

"  Mind  what  you're  about,  Berk !  "  exclaimed  Mur 
dock,  moving  just  in  time  to  prevent  a  catastrophe. 
"  This  water  is  ice,  and  I'm  not  dressed  for  a  swim." 

"  Yes,  sir,  a  blackmailer,"  resumed  Berkeley,  his  back 
squarely  to  Murdock  once  more.  "  That's  a  strong 
word,  but  not  too  strong.  Do  you  wonder  I  say  the 
whole  world's  rotten?  As  you  know,  I've  always  stood 
stiff  for  the  home  and  against  divorce.  But,  damn  it,  I'm 
almost  tempted  to  doubt  my  principles.  .  .  .  Yes,  sir, 


"WHAT   A    BEAST   YOU   ARE" 

she's  trying  to  blackmail  me.  Some  one  sent  her  an 
anonymous  letter  about  Jessie — and  another  matter  or 
so.  She  said  nothing  to  me.  Sne  didn't  tear  up  the 
dastardly  letter,  and  forget  it,  as  an  honorable  woman 
would  have  done.  I  tell  you,  Murdock,  she's  been  ruined  \ 
by  wealth — dragged  right  down  off  the  pedestal  into  the 
mire.  She  hired  a  lawyer  to  have  the  stories  investigated, 
and  the  skunk  got  her  the  proofs." 

Now,  it  was  Murdock  who  suspended  paddling. 
Berkeley  had  his  entire  attention,  at  last.  What  if  Sophy 
should  happen  to 

"  If  he  hadn't  been  a  young  beginner,"  continued 
Berkeley,  "  he'd  have  come  to  me  with  'em,  instead.  But 
he  missed  his  chance  to  make  a  career.  Anyhow,  she 
pounced  on  me.  When  she  opened  up,  I  was  ready  to 
die.  Yes,  sir,  I  was  covered  with  shame  that  that  noble, 
spiritual  woman  should  have  caught  me  leading — an 
ordinary  human  life."  Berkeley  laughed  loudly.  "  Oh, 
what  asses  the  ladies  make  of  us,  Charles — what  wag- 
eared,  braying  asses !  " 

They  paddled  slowly  a  few  hundred  yards  in  silence ; 
then  Berkeley  resumed  in  a  gloomier  tone :  "  Thank  God, 
she  and  I  ain't  got  any  children.  Wealth's  the  ruina 
tion  of  the  women  and  the  children.  But,  as  I  was  say 
ing,  instead  of  rearing  on  her  pedestal  and  smiting  me 
to  earth,  what  do  you  think  she  did?  " 

Murdock  did  not  inquire. 

"  She  proceeded  to  try  to  blackmail  me,"  said  Berke 
ley.  "  She  said  I  must  make  her  independently  rich, 
or  she'd  squeal !  Think  of  that,  Murdock " 

"  Don't  turn  round !  " 

"  A  man's  own  wife — the  pattern  of  all  the  virtues, 
as  he  supposed — a  lady  by  birth  and  breeding — and  act 
ing  just  like  a — a  Jessie !  " 

80S 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Don't  dig  that  paddle  in  so  deep !  " 

"  But  what  do  you  think  of  it?  "  demanded  Berkeley. 

"  She  seems  to  have  borrowed  a  leaf  from  your  book." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  She  never  learned  that  from  me — 
never !  I've  never  let  on  to  her.  I've  kept  my  home  clean 
— clean  as  a  cloister.  I've  encouraged  her  high-plane 
talk.  I've  let  her  create  an  intellectual  and  artistic  at 
mosphere  that  nearly  gave  me  the  sleeping  sickness." 

Berkeley  lapsed  into  gloomy  contemplation  of  his 
heroic  but  useless  self-sacrifices.  It  was  some  time  before 
he  roused  himself  to  resume.  "  When  I  found  she  was 
plain  dirt,  like  the  rest  of  us,  I  got  right  down  to  busi 
ness.  You'd  have  thought  it  was  Jess  and  me  having 
a  go,  Tenderloin  rules.  She  stuck  out  for  a  big  slice 
of  my  fortune — independence  and  no  scandal,  or  scandal 
and  alimony." 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Murdock,  the  first  sign  of  interest  he 
had  shown. 

"  I'm  thinking  it  over." 

Murdock  smiled  grimly  at  the  roll  of  self-indulgent 
fat  at  the  collar  of  the  outing  shirt  of  the  man  in  front 
of  him.  He  had  not  been  associated  in  business  with  Tom 
Berkeley  all  those  years  without  fathoming  his  charac 
ter.  He  had  too  often  seen  this  prodigal  in  personal 
pleasures  crouch  down  and  thrust  out  his  whole  armor 
of  quills  when  approached  for  any  sum,  however  small, 
for  other  than  his  own  direct  use.  Murdock's  sympathies 
were  all  with  the  wife ;  so  he  said,  as  if  the  matter  were 
settled,  "  Well,  Tom,  there's  only  one  wise  course." 

Berkeley  bristled.  "  What's  that?  "  he  called  over 
his  shoulder  gruffly. 

"  To  accept  her  terms  and  make  peace." 

"  Not  by  a  damn  sight !  "  exclaimed  Berkeley,  mak 
ing  the  canoe  shiver  and  rock  in  his  fury.  "  Anything 

204 


"WHAT   A   BEAST   YOU   ARE" 

she  might  ask — that  is,  anything  in  reason — anything 
she  might  ask,  for  affection.  But  not  so  much  as  a 
plugged  nickel  for  blackmail.  No,  I've  got  my  plans." 
He  was  silent  again ;  when  he  resumed  there  was  in  his 
voice  the  bluster  of  defiance  to  anticipated  criticism. 
"  You  see,  Murdock,  in  her  train  of  hangers-on  there's 
a  young  chap,  an  artist — mop  of  hair,  low  collar  to 
show  his  classic  throat,  soulful  eyes  rolling  over  the 
bridge  of  his  violin " 

"Carruthers?" 

"  That's  the  baby.  About  fifteen  years  younger  than 
she.  Jessie  put  me  wise,  but  I  slapped  her  mouth  shut. 
I  don't  allow  anybody — least  of  all  a  woman  of  that 
sort — to  think  I'd  tolerate  talk  against  my  lawful  wife. 
But — I  didn't  fail  to  hear  what  Jess  said  before  I  clapped 
the  stopper  on." 

"  There's  nothing  in  that,"  said  Murdock,  cold  and 
curt.  "  And  you  know  it." 

"  But,  damn  it,  man,"  protested  Berkeley,  astonished 
at  his  usually  astute  partner's  obtuseness.  "  I've  got  to 
have  something  on  her.  I  ain't  going  to  be  robbed 
without  a  struggle.  Besides,  I'm  not  so  cocksure  she 
hasn't  been  up  to  some  sort  of  hankey-pankey.  A 
woman  that'd  try  to  blackmail  her  husband  would 
stoop  to  most  anything.  The  fact  that  she's  cold  with 
me  don't  prove  that  she —  Anyhow,  damn  it,  she's 
human." 

"  You're  judging  her  by  your  own  standards,"  said 
Murdock.  His  tone  was  so  contemptuous  and  offensive 
that  it  pierced  Berkeley's  hide  and  reached  flesh  that 
could  feel. 

"  To  be  sure  I  am,"  retorted  he.  "  And  why  not  ? 
I'm  coming  round  to  believe  there's  only  one  standard — 
just  the  plain  human  standard.  Given  the  same  con- 

205 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

ditions,  Murdock,  and  one  human  being'll  act  exactly  like 
another.  What's  character,  after  all,  but  the  result  of 
the  material  conditions  that  compel  and  mold  a  man  or 
woman  this  way  or  that?  And  among  our  sort  of  peo 
ple,  what  are  the  conditions?  You  know  as  well  as 
I  do." 

Murdock  did  not  especially  like  Florence  Berkeley. 
He  appreciated  why  she  had  become  the  cold,  rather 
supercilious  woman  she  was,  disdainful  of  all  men  of  her 
husband's  world;  but  he  was  none  the  less  disagreeably 
affected  by  her  manner.  Still,  he  was  then  struggling 
with  an  impulse  to  knock  Berkeley  out  of  the  canoe  and 
thrust  him  under  whenever  he  came  up  until  he  drowned. 
"  He  oughtn't  to  be  let  live,"  he  muttered. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Berkeley,  who  had  confided  to  get 
advice  and  wished  to  miss  nothing. 

Murdock  felt  he  owed  it  to  Mrs.  Berkeley  to  restrain, 
disgust  and  contempt  and  do  what  he  could  toward  help 
ing  her.  "  If  you  should  be  insane  enough  to  attack 
her,"  he  accordingly  said,  "  it'd  prove  a  boomerang.  It's 
cheaper  and  wiser,  as  well  as  decent,  to  give  her  what 
she  wants  and  let  her  get  a  quiet  divorce." 

"  Never !  "  snarled  Berkeley.  "  Never !  Damn  it, 
she's  my  wife.  She  belongs  to  me  I  While  I  know  her 
for  a  whited  sepulcher,  she  makes  a  devilish  fine  appear 
ance.  It's  true,  she's  a  slim  woman — slimmer  than  when 
I  married  her.  Still,  she  knows  how  to  carry  the  clothes. 
And  she's  got  a  fine  broad  bosom — something  to  spread 
out  the  jewels  on.  To  set  off  jewelry  right,  a  woman's 
got  to  have  bosom.  Yes,  she's  a  credit  to  me.  She 
keeps  up  the  house  well,  attends  to  all  the  show  end, 
and  my  comfort,  too.  A  man  can't  be  enjoying  himself 
all  the  time.  He's  got  to  rest,  to  take  things  moder 
ately." 

206 


"WHAT  A    BEAST   YOU   ARE" 

Murdock  changed  an  exclamation  of  repulsion  into 
a  cold,  insulting  laugh.  "  What  a  beast  you  are,  Tom !  " 
he  said,  in  restrained  comment  on  the  reminder  of 
Berkeley's  most  abhorrent  characteristic,  his  deliberately 
measured  vices,  rigidly  regulated  so  that  his  health 
would  not  be  injured. 

"  '  Man  is  an  animal,'  "  quoted  Berkeley.  "  We 
learn  that  when  we  first  start  to  school.  And  /  am  a 
rational  animal.  Now,  she  provides  me  with  a — a  rest 
cure,  as  it  were,"  continued  this  modern,  scientific  roue, 
regulating  his  monstrosities  by  the  laws  of  hygiene. 
"  I'd  have  hard  work  to  replace  her.  Besides — "  He 
laughed  genially —  "  I  don't  want  to  marry  again,  and 
a  man  that  lives  my  kind  of  life  has  to  have  a  wife  for 
safety's  sake." 

Murdock  turned  the  canoe  in  the  direction  of  camp. 
But  Berkeley,  unconscious  of  his  mood  or  indifferent  to 
it,  proceeded  to  explain  what  he  meant  by  "  safety's 
sake."  "  Wherever  I  go,  it's  known  I'm  a  married 
man,"  said  he.  "  So  any  lady  that  tried  to  put  up  a 
game  on  me — breach  of  promise,  common-law  wife,  and 
all  that — wouldn't  have  a  leg  to  stand  on.  Marriage 
is  a  great  protection,  Murdock.  I'm  surprised  that 
you're  cutting  loose.  You'll  simply  have  to  go  to  all 
the  bother  of  marrying  again  and  getting  another 
woman  used  to  you." 

Murdock  frowned  and  compressed  his  lips.  In  his 
eyes  the  lightning  began  to  play. 

"  You're  the  one-woman  sort  of  man,"  pursued 
Berkeley.  "  You  must  have  got  a  bee  about  a  woman, 
some  particular  petticoat " 

He  glanced  around,  laughing.  Out  of  the  corner  of 
his  eye  he  saw  the  storm  about  to  burst.  "  But,  about 
my  affairs,  Charles,"  he  hastened  to  say,  his  tone  apolo- 

207 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

getic  and  soothing.  "  I'm  undecided,  and  I  want  your 
judgment.  I  rather  think  I'll  threaten  her  with  a  suit 
for  divorce,  naming  that  fiddler  chap.  That'd  quiet  her, 
for  she's  as  sensitive  about  her  reputation  as  a  hen  about 
a  brood  of  one.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  low?  " 

"  I  never  did,"  said  Murdock,  his  voice  as  contemptu 
ous  as  a  kick  would  have  been. 

The  back  of  Berkeley's  neck,  red  from  tan,  became 
crimson.  "  I  don't  mean  that,"  he  replied,  sullen  but 
not  daring  to  resent.  "  The  way  she's  acting  justifies 
me  in  anything.  The  idea  of  a  woman's  dragging  fam 
ily  relations  down  to  the  level  of  business !  I've  always 
been  a  stickler  for  keeping  business  out  of  my  home 
life " 

It  came  over  Murdock  how  utterly  useless,  how 
stupid  it  was  to  rage  against  this  thick-skinned  animal ; 
as  well  reproach  a  pig  for  grunting  and  wallowing. 
He  checked  his  wrath,  and  interrupted  coldly :  "  I  warn 
you,  Berkeley,  not  to  play  any  dirty  trick  on  your  wife. 
She's  too  good  for  you — other  people  know  it,  if  you 
don't.  Why,  God  damn  you,  I'd  be  one  of  the  first  to 
attack  you,  if  you  did  such  a  vile  thing !  "  He  was  in  a 
glow  of  righteous  indignation. 

Berkeley  gave  an  angry  sneer.  "  Seems  to  me,  old 
man,  you've  got  your  hands  full  at  home  just  now." 
Then,  frightened  at  his  audacity  with  a  man  so  danger^ 
ous,  he  hurried  on  with,  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't 
mean  to  meddle.  You  had  a  right  to  say  what  you 
thought ;  I  asked  you  to." 

If  he  had  seen  Murdock's  face,  he  would  have  been 
amused;  for  Murdock's  sense  of  proportion  and  sense 
of  humor  did  not  halt  at  his  own  threshold.  Cant  and 
pretense  and  harsh  judgment  are  so  familiar  a  part  of 
our  daily  routine,  we  are  so  used  to  hearing  and  to; 

208 


"WHAT   A    BEAST    YOU   ARE" 

speaking  them,  that  it  takes  more  than  an  ordinary 
shock  to  awaken  us.  Murdock  spent  the  rest  of  that 
journey  in  trying  to  satisfy  himself  that  his  own  case 
was  radically  different  from  Berkeley's. 

The  canoe  was  close  in  shore  before  their  camp  when 
Berkeley  went  on,  "  I  begin  to  think  you're  right, 
Charles.  I've  about  made  up  my  mind  to  offer  to  com 
promise  with  her  for  half  what  she  asks  on  condition 
she  drops  the  divorce  talk.  She'll  accept.  She  don't 
want  to  marry  anyone  else,  and  nobody  ever  talks  divorce 
unless  he  or  she  has  another  marriage  in  mind." 

Murdock  reddened  at  this  shrewd  shot,  so  sly  that 
he  could  not  resent  it. 

"  Yes,  I'll  make  her  that  offer.  She's  sure  to  accept. 
Then,  I  can  have  Jessie  here  next  week.  She'll  bring 
Viola — or  somebody  else — whatever  style  you'd  like." 

"  No,  thanks,"  said  Murdock.  His  anger  had  gone. 
"  Tom  can't  be  anything  but  himself,"  he  was  reflect 
ing.  His  long  experience  in  utilizing  his  fellow-beings 
had  taught  him  that  they  must  be  accepted  for  what 
they  are.  The  workman  who  spends  his  time  and  energy 
in  trying  to  make  over  his  tools  does  not  get  far  with 
his  work.  Besides —  Well,  who  was  he  to  sit  in  judg 
ment  on  anyone?  And  who  could  judge  between  hus 
band  and  wife?  "  I  must  and  will  be  free."  His  qualms 
were  merely  in  the  last,  deep-lying,  dying  remnants  of 
the  "  roots  of  an  early  training  in  narrowness  and  igno 
rance." 

"  Then  Jess'll  come  alone,"  Berkeley  was  saying. 
"  But  won't  you  feel  rather  out  of  it?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Murdock.  "  I'm  going  the  day  be 
fore  she  arrives.  I'll  join  Langdon's  party  in  the  Adi- 
rondacks." 

Berkeley  showed  that  he  understood  by  suggesting, 
209 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Why  not  simply  send  off  Simcox?  I'll  ship  my  man, 
too,  if  you  say  so." 

"  No,"  said  Murdock. 

However,  the  day  he  fixed  for  leaving  was  such  ideal 
fishing  weather  that  he  waited  over,  and  Berkeley  drove 
him  to  the  station  in  the  trap  that  was  to  take  back  Miss 
Pomeroy.  Her  train  arrived  fifteen  minutes  before  the 
train  that  was  to  take  Murdock's  car,  which  had  been 
sent  for  him.  As  she  descended,  with  her  octoroon  maid 
close  behind  her,  Berkeley's  good-natured  face  lighted 
up,  and  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  long  thrust  of  his 
piglike  nose  there  was  the  quick,  slight  twitching  that 
would  have  been  repulsive  had  it  not  been  so  humorous, 
so  suggestive  of  the  close  kinship  of  man  and  the  lower 
animals. 

"  Don't  she  know  how  to  get  herself  together  ?  "  de 
manded  he  of  Murdock.  And  Jessie  certainly  was  look 
ing  well,  with  her  black-and-white  check  traveling  dress 
that  brought  out  every  good  point  of  her  full  figure, 
its  skirt  sweeping  clear  of  her  big-buckled  tan  shoes  to 
show  the  prettiest  of  ankles  in  the  most  diaphanous  of 
tan  silk  stockings.  "  It's  a  joy  to  put  money  into  her 
— though  I  know  she's  up  to  mischief  every  minute  my 
eyes  ain't  on  her.  And  I  like  her  expression,  too — bold 
and  free.  The  sight  of  it  always  makes  me  feel  as  I  do 
when  the  opera's  over  and  I'm  let  go  out  into  God's  free 
air  again.  Pity  that  sort  of  thing  can't  be  combined 
with  respectability.  If  it  was,  I  think  I  could  sing  c  No 
place  like  home,'  and  mean  it." 

Murdock  advanced  with  Berkeley  to  greet  Miss 
Pomeroy.  She  gave  each  in  turn  two  fingers  of  her  left 
hand,  calling  orders  to  her  maid  over  her  shoulder  the 
while ;  she  had  observed  a  fashionable  woman  perpetrate 
that  rudeness  in  the  station  at  New  York  a  few  hours 

210 


"WHAT  'A    BEAST   YOU  'ARE" 

before.  "  Wish  I'd  let  Vi  have  her  way  and  come  along," 
said  she,  her  accent  and  manner  an  amusing  melange  of 
Broadway  and  Fifth  Avenue.  "  She's  mad  about  you — 
talks  of  nothing  else !  " 

Murdock  bowed  formally ;  his  ruddiness  was  not  alto 
gether  from  without. 


XV 


DERAILED 

THE  train  trailing  Murdock's  car  was  rushing  south 
ward  through  the  wilderness.  He  had  finished  lunch 
and,  with  cigar  and  coffee,  sat  watching  the  swiftly 
changing  scenery.  The  air  poured  in  at  the  windows  de- 
liciously  fresh  and  fragrant ;  his  imagination  was  stimu 
lated  by  the  contrast  between  his  immediate  surround 
ings  of  civilization's  luxury  and  the  reaches  of  untouched 
nature  but  a  glance  of  the  eye  away — the  haunt  of  deer 
and  moose  and  wild  bird.  Success,  especially  material 
success,  usually  comes  so  toilsomely  and  bears  so  many 
ills  in  its  train  that  the  winner,  hardened  and  embit 
tered,  looks  on  his  prize  as  about  the  sorriest  of  life's 
sardonic  jests  at  the  expense  of  those  who  take  it  serious 
ly.  But  there  were  moments  when  Murdock  had  a  sense 
of  his  elevation  high  above  the  masses  of  his  fellow-men,  a 
sense  of  his  ability  to  compel  and  to  appropriate  the 
services  of  thousands  on  thousands,  and  to  surround 
himself  with  luxury  and  obedience. 

In  those  Canadian  woods  and  waters  he  had  renewed 
his  youth  in  its  fullness,  had  resumed  it  with  an  appre 
ciation  of  its  value,  its  possibilities,  its  power,  which  a 
boy's  inexperience  never  has.  Youth!  And  he  was 
speeding  southward,  still  young  and  unbroken,  toward 
the  bright  goal  of  his  manhood's  ambition.  His  eyes 
shone,  a  proud  smile  relaxed  the  latterly  almost  habit- 


DERAILED 

ually  somber  strength  of  his  features ;  his  heart  dilated. 
Youth!  Freedom!  And  soon  he  would  be  absolutely 
free,  free  to  claim  the  woman  who  now  more  than  ever 
seemed  to  him  the  dazzling  crown  of  reward — would  be 
free  to  claim  her,  would  claim  her,  would  possess  her 
and  be  possessed  by  her 

It  had  been  raining  throughout  that  region,  and  the 
overworked  track  walkers  had  been  unable  to  do  their 
duty.  The  train,  behind  time,  took  a  sharp  curve  at 
express  speed,  tore  a  rail  loose,  shot  through  the  air, 
rolled  down  a  hillside,  collapsed  in  a  shrieking,  straining, 
blazing  pyramid  upon  the  bed  of  an  old  watercourse. 
Atop  the  heap  of  splintered,  riddled  coaches  for  ordi 
nary  people  lay  Murdock's  private  car,  of  triply-braced 
steel,  upside  down  but  almost  uninjured. 

As  the  train  left  the  rails,  Simcox,  in  Murdock's  bed 
room,  was  hurled  under  the  bed  and  so  protected  there 
that  he  was  unhurt  beyond  a  few  bruises.  Motion 
ceased ;  steam  and  heat  from  the  flames  began  to  pene 
trate  ;  he  pulled  himself  together.  The  inverted  car  was 
full  of  steam  and  smoke.  He  heard  the  groans,  the 
screams,  the  yells  of  the  other  servants,  and  not  quite 
so  piercingly  horrible  sounds  from  far  beneath,  from 
the  passengers  buried,  trapped,  impaled  in  the  ruins  of 
the  other  cars,  and  there  burning  to  death.  But  Simcox 
was  not  thinking  of  them  any  more  than  he  was  think 
ing  of  himself;  he  crawled  and  fumbled  about  until  he 
felt  a  human  body,  felt  the  texture  of  material  he  recog 
nized  as  the  suit  he  had  laid  out  that  morning  for  his 
master.  He  lifted  the  body  to  his  back  and,  on  all  fours 
like  a  beast  of  burden,  crawled  out  of  a  window.  The 
wind  lifted  for  an  instant  the  hot  black  fog  saturated 
with  the  smells  of  burning  wood  and  roasting  flesh; 
Simcox  stood  erect,  steadied  himself  on  the  tottering 

213 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW, 

wreckage,  took  his  unconscious  master  in  his  arms  and 
leaped  and  slid  to  the  ground,  out  of  danger.  He  laid 
him  on  the  turf  well  to  one  side,  returned  to  the  wreck. 
He  gave  no  heed  to  the  appeals,  the  screams,  the  moans. 
He  saw  a  man  shoot  his  daughter,  then  his  wife,  then 
himself  as  the  flames  swept  round  them  to  roast  them  in 
slow  agony.  He  passed  opportunity  after  opportunity 
to  help  entangled  passengers.  He  had  but  the  one  idea 
— his  master.  He  toiled  away  at  the  wreckage,  drag 
ging  out  curtains  and  upholstered  seats;  in  two  trips 
he  bore  away  enough  to  enable  him  to  make  Murdock 
comfortable.  Then  he  dashed  here  and  there  in  the 
smoke-palled  confusion  until  he  found  a  doctor  attend 
ing  three  mangled  women. 

"  You  can't  do  them  any  good,"  he  said  in  a  voice 
of  rough  command.  "  Come  with  me  to  Mr.  Mur 
dock.  If  you  can  save  him,  you'll  get  a  fee  worth 
while." 

"  Murdock?  "  repeated  the  doctor.  "  Charles  Mur 
dock  ?  Was  he  in  that  private  car  ?  " 

"Charles  Murdock,"  said  Simcox.  "Hurry!" 
And  he  seized  him  by  the  arm  to  drag  him  along  as  if  he 
were  refusing  to  go.  The  doctor  knelt  beside  the  limp 
form,  glanced  at  the  white  face,  fumbled  into  the  torn 
garments  over  the  breast. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  "  demanded  Simcox,  his  bloodshot  eyes 
following  each  move. 

The  doctor  continued  his  examination.  Simcox  drew 
a  long  breath ;  if  Murdock  were  dead,  the  doctor  would 
not  be  examining  further. 

"  Skull  fractured — left  leg,  left  arm  broken,"  was 
the  verdict  that  finally  came. 

"Will  he  die?" 

"  Probably.  At  any  rate,  nothing  can  be  done  for 
214 


DERAILED 

him  just  now.     Let's  go  back  to  the  wreck."     And  he 
rushed  away. 

But  Simcox  did  not  follow;  though  the  doctor's 
abrupt  departure  was  proof  that  he  thought  Murdock 
beyond  saving,  Simcox  did  not  lose  hope;  he  had  been 
a  professional  nurse  at  one  time  in  his  varied  career  and 
had  too  often  seen  the  doomed  of  doctors  come  to  life, 
had  discovered  how  little  of  practical  judgment  and  skill 
lies  behind  the  pretentious  learning  of  the  average  prac 
titioner.  He  stood  beside  his  master,  reflecting.  He 
remembered  that  they  had  passed  a  small  station  a  few 
seconds  before  taking  the  curve.  He  set  off  at  a  run, 
and  within  five  minutes  reached  the  station.  The  door 
was  open;  the  one  room  and  the  railed-off  office  were 
empty.  He  knew  a  little  about  a  great  many  things; 
one  of  them  was  telegraphy.  Seating  himself  at  the  in 
strument,  he  soon  got  an  answer  to  his  signal,  sent  off  a 
dispatch  to  Lake  Placid  for  immediate  help,  another 
dispatch  to  Murdock's  offices  in  New  York,  ordering  a 
corps  of  the  best  doctors  and  nurses  at  once,  and  that 
arrangements  be  made  for  the  construction  of  a  siding 
and  for  forwarding  a  private  car  to  stand  on  it  and 
be  Murdock's  own  hospital.  In  less  than  half  an  hour 
he  knelt  again  beside  his  master,  who  was  breathing 
heavily  now,  but  still  unconscious.  He  searched  for  the 
doctor,  found  him  bandaging  the  burned  and  torn  body 
of  a  child. 

"  Finish  that  quick,"  he  commanded,  "  and  come  with 
me." 

The  doctor  glanced  up.  He  had  not  looked  at  Sim 
cox  before.  Not  recognizing  him,  noting  only  that  this 
harsh,  imperious  order  came  from  one  of  the  servant 
class,  he  resumed  his  task  without  condescending  to 
reply. 

215 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Come  with  me,  I  tell  you,"  repeated  Simcox.; 
"  Something  must  be  done  for  him." 

"  Each  must  take  his  turn,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  There  are  only  two  of  us,  and  a  hundred  to  be  looked 
after." 

"  You  don't  hear  me.  It's  the  Mr.  Murdock — 
Charles  Murdock." 

"  Oh ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor  in  a  vastly  different 
tone.  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't  catch  the  name.  I 
remember  you  now.  Why  didn't  you  speak  plainly  ?  " 
And  he  hastily  finished  the  bandaging,  and  followed 
Simcox.  "  It  shows  how  upset  I  am,"  said  he.  "  I  had 
entirely  forgotten  Mr.  Murdock.  Gad,  I  must  have  been 
upset !  " 

But  he  had  his  balance  again ;  as  he  and  Simcox 
hastened  along,  he  gazed  quite  calmly  at  the  frightful 
chaos  where  death  was  torturing  its  victims  before  it 
claimed  them.  His  whole  mind,  like  Simcox's,  was  for 
the  one  sufferer.  He  examined  Murdock  with  minute 
care,  Simcox  studying  his  conventional  doctor-face  with 
impatience  and  contempt.  Finally  he  shook  his  head 
gravely,  as  his  puffy  forefinger  traced  the  outline  of  the 
fracture  of  the  skull  in  the  thick,  blood-matted  hair. 
"  Bad !  Bad !  "  muttered  he. 

Simcox  trembled.  He  knew  enough  of  surgery 
to  know  how  bad  that  wound  in  that  place  certainly 
was. 

The  doctor  glanced  at  the  clouded  sky.  "  He  must 
be  got  to  shelter." 

One  of  the  crew  of  the  wrecked  train  rushed  up. 
"  Come,  quick,  doctor,"  he  panted.  "  We've  just  dug 
out  a  family " 

"  Can't  you  see  I'm  busy  ?  "  cried  the  doctor  angrily. 
"  This  is  Charles  Murdock." 

216 


DERAILED 

The  trainman's  expression  changed.  "  Oh,"  said  he 
apologetically.  He  was  all  attention  at  once. 

"  We  must  get  him  to  shelter,"  said  Simcox.  "  It'll 
be  raining  in  a  few  minutes.  While  the  doctor  works, 
help  me  make  a  stretcher." 

"  Certainly — of  course,"  was  the  ready  answer. 

He  forgot  the  family  whose  miseries  had  been  wring 
ing  his  kind  heart  a  moment  before.  He  and  the  valet 
attacked  the  wreckage;  they  had  neither  eyes  nor 
thoughts  for  the  horrors  around  them — the  moaning, 
the  odors  of  burned  and  burning  flesh  and  hair  and 
clothing,  the  dismembered  bodies,  some  scalded  raw-red, 
some  charred  black,  the  open  eyes  of  the  dead  with  the 
fixed  glare  of  anguish. 

"  Nothing  more  can  be  done  except  make  him  com 
fortable,  until  instruments  come,"  said  the  doctor,  who 
had  finished  his  emergency  work.  "  My  bag  is  buried 
in  the  wreck." 

The  three  men  lifted  Murdock  gently  to  the  stretcher 
and  bore  him  to  the  station.  As  they  reached  it,  a  hand 
car  rolled  up.  There  were  ten  men  on  it,  seven  of  them 
obviously  doctors.  Simcox  seized  upon  the  one  who  was 
the  most  important  and  prosperous  in  air  and  dress  and 
had  the  largest  and  costliest  bag.  "  Mr.  Murdock — 
Mr.  Charles  Murdock  is  in  here,"  cried  he.  "  Come  on." 

The  important-looking  doctor  responded  to  the  name 
instantly.  "  Indeed !  "  said  he,  keen,  metropolitan  eyes 
lighting  up  in  the  midst  of  black  brows  and  beard.  His 
tone  gave  Simcox  confidence ;  he  knew  it  at  once  as  the 
tone  of  a  master  man. 

As  they  entered  the  station,  the  doctor  in  attendance 
scowled;  then,  seeing  the  bag  of  instruments,  he  ex 
claimed  :  "  Ah — thank  you,"  and  reached  for  it. 

But  the  newly  arrived  doctor  smiled  blandly,  ignored 
15  217 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

the  extended  hand.  "  I  will  attend  to  Mr.  Murdock," 
said  he.  Then  to  the  trainman :  "  Conduct  my  colleagues 
to  the  wreck." 

The  six  others  who  came  in  the  handcar  had  heard 
the  magic  name,  glittering  and  tinkling  gold,  and  had 
crowded  into  the  bare  little  waiting  room.  "  Come 
along,  gentlemen,"  cried  the  trainman.  "  There  are 
fifty  poor  creatures  crying  for  you." 

The  phrase  "  poor  creatures "  was  unfortunate. 
Four  of  the  doctors  seemed  not  to  have  heard  the  appeal, 
but  pushed  eagerly,  almost  menacingly  round  Murdock's 
couch,  like  swine  at  a  trough.  Two  doctors — one  old, 
the  other  a  stripling,  stood  aloof,  looking  ashamed. 

"  Back !  Back !  "  cried  Simcox.  "  The  master  must 
have  air." 

"  Yes,  stand  back,  gentlemen,"  said  the  doctor  with 
the  instruments.  His  remark  was  general,  but  his  gaze 
rested  commandingly  upon  the  flushed  bitter  face  of 
his  brother  practitioner  whom  he  had  displaced. 

The  trainman's  moral  indignation  suddenly  sprang 
from  its  slumber.  He,  being  human,  understood  what 
was  in  the  minds  of  these  doctors,  and  it  angered  him, 
where  in  his  own  mind  it  had  seemed  the  matter  of 
course.  "  One  human  being's  as  good  as  another,"  he 
shouted.  "  You  people  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  your 
selves.  Are  you  going  to  let  those  poor  creatures  in  the 
wreck  suffer  and  die  while  you  fight  over  this  here  rich 
man?" 

They  followed  the  trainman.  The  doctor  Simcox 
had  chosen  and  the  doctor  he  had  commandeered  at  the 
wreck  remained  alone  with  Murdock. 

"  I  must  operate  at  once,"  said  the  handcar  doctor. 

"  It  would  be  fatal,"  protested  the  first  doctor.  "  13 
forbid  it." 

218 


DERAILED 


The  handcar  doctor  looked  up  at  him  superciliously. 
*'  I  think,"  said  he,  "  you  would  do  well  to  leave  your 
master's  case  to  the  physician." 

"  I  am  not  a  servant  of  Mr.  Murdock's,"  exclaimed 
the  doctor  from  the  wreck,  his  dullish  brown  eyes  dan 
cing  with  anger.  "  I  am  Doctor  Bellowes,  of  Albany." 
He  turned  to  Simcox :  "  I  warn  you  to  be  careful  how 
you  permit  your  master's  life  to  be  trifled  with." 

The  hand-car  doctor  was  busy  searching  his  bag 
of  instruments.  "  Yes,  I  can  go  ahead,"  said  he.  To 
Simcox :  "  I  shall  want  plenty  of  fresh  water — hot  and 
cold — and  at  least  two  basins,  or  any  sort  of  shallow 
receptacle.  You  can  get  everything  at  the  near-by 
houses.  My  colleague  here,  from  Albany,  will  help 
you." 

Bellowes  reared  to  protest.  Two  men,  one  of  them 
roughly  bandaged,  now  bore  a  stretcher  through  the 
doorway;  on  it  lay  a  woman  in  calico.  The  handcar 
doctor  waved  them  back.  "  No  room  here,"  said  he 
peremptorily.  "  Take  her  to  the  shed — anywhere. 
This  place  is  reserved  for  Mr.  Murdock." 

"  How  the  hell  can  it  be  reserved  for  Mr.  Mur 
dock  ?  "  demanded  the  bandaged  man.  "  We're  all  on 
an  equality  here,  all  equal  sufferers  by  the  criminal 
carelessness  of  this  railroad  company." 

The  man  at  the  other  end  of  the  stretcher,  a  train 
hand,  was  moving  away  with  his  end  of  the  burden. 
"  Come  along,"  he  said.  "  If  it's  Murdock,  we  can't 
get  in  here." 

"  But  I  say  we  can !  "  shouted  the  bandaged  man. 
"  Probably  Murdock,  with  his  special  car,  was  travel 
ing  deadhead.  We  other  people  paid  our  fare.  We've 
got  our  rights."  His  sneer  into  the  angry  face  of  the 
doctor  was  made  the  uglier  by  the  stained  and  ragged 

219 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

cloths  wrapped  about  his  forehead  and  ears.  "  You're 
a  fine  doctor,  you  are,  to  think  of  fees  at  such  a  time !  " 

The  handcar  doctor  laughed  at  him.  "  Get  along 
with  you.  A  doctor's  like  any  other  business  man. 
He  thinks  of  business  when  there's  something  doing." 

"Who  are  you,  anyhow?  "  demanded  the  bandaged 
man,  mollified  in  spite  of  himself  by  the  doctor's  frank 
ness.  So  loathed  is  hypocrisy  that  the  most  vicious 
action  loses  half  its  repulsiveness  if  frankly  done. 

"  My  name's  Presbury,  and  I'm  from  New  York." 

"  Well,  Presbury,  you're  a  cold-hearted  scoun 
drel." 

Presbury  laughed.  "  Get  along  with  you,  my  good 
man,"  said  he  cheerfully. 

The  bandaged  man  muttered,  looked  about  for  sup 
porters  for  his  view  of  human  rights ;  finding  none,  he 
yielded  to  the  urgings  of  his  fellow-bearer.  At  the 
name  of  Presbury,  a  few  slow  tears  of  relief  and  joy 
rolled  down  Simcox's  gaunt  cheeks  and  Dr.  Bellowes 
drew  back,  respectful  though  sullen.  He  knew  he  must 
give  way  before  the  famous  surgeon,  but  the  knowledge 
did  not  lessen  his  ill-humor.  The  crow  yields  to  the 
vulture,  but  not  with  good  grace.  "  Anything  I  can 
do  to  help  you,  sir?  "  he  asked  with  an  attempt  at  po 
liteness. 

"  Go  along  with  Simcox,"  replied  Presbury,  indif 
ferently.  "  And  get  back  here  quickly — both  of  you. 
There's  no  time  to  lose." 

By  half  past  six — so  quickly  did  Simcox's  tele 
grams  work,  through  the  magic  of  Murdock's  name — 
the  siding  was  laid  and  a  special  car,  borrowed  from  a 
camping  multimillionaire  a  few  miles  up  the  road,  was 
upon  it,  was  transformed  into  a  hospital.  At  dusk  a 

220 


DERAILED 

train  from  New  York  brought  two  surgeons  of  the 
staff  of  Presbury's  private  sanatorium  and  four 
trained  nurses.  Nor  did  the  other  injured  and  their 
friends  complain  of  this  favoritism.  It  seemed  fitting 
that  Murdock  should  have  more  attention  than  the 
commonalty,  obscure  and  without  "  pull."  In  Europe 
favoritism  in  all  its  forms  maintains  itself  by  means 
of  the  sanction  of  tradition;  in  America  it  has  a  far 
firmer  foundation.  The  average  American  feels  that 
it  is  only  human  nature  to  insist  upon  any  and  every 
possible  advantage.  Also,  he  has  inherited  from  ad 
venturous  immigrant  ancestors  a  gambler's  instinct 
which  makes  him  hope  that  his  turn  will  come  some 
day.  The  bandaged  man,  raging  against  the  "  inso 
lence  of  the  rich,"  got  no  encouragement  beyond  a 
carelessly  sympathetic  "  Yes,  it  is  a  damn  shame," 
usually  followed  by  "  But  what's  the  use  of  kicking  ?  " 
Bellowes,  confident  that  Presbury  made  a  fatal 
error  in  operating  in  such  circumstances,  and  aching 
from  Presbury's  bruises  on  his  vanity,  hinted  to  the 
reporters  that  Murdock  was  doomed.  This  was  tele 
graphed  everywhere,  concentrating  public  attention 
upon  the  one  victim  of  the  disaster  who  was  widely 
known ;  even  those  who  had  never  heard  his  name  were 
interested  as  soon  as  they  read  that  he  was  rich.  Thus, 
by  nightfall  that  quiet  darkened  car  on  a  siding  at  the 
lonely  Adirondack  station  was  in  the  full  blaze  of  a 
national  publicity  which  Murdock  dying  quietly  in  the 
ordinary  way  never  would  have  got.  At  ten  o'clock 
that  night,  into  that  spot  upon  which  the  search  lights 
of  publicity  were  so  brilliantly  playing,  walked  a 
woman — a  young  woman,  calm  of  face  and  of  voice, 
but  with  such  a  look  in  her  wan  face,  in  her  burning 
eyes,  that  the  man  on  guard  at  the  steps  of  Murdock's 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

car  felt  a  choke  come  up  into  his  throat  at  the  sight 
of  her. 

"  I  wish  to  see  him,"  she  said. 

The  man's  expression  was  hesitation.  He  examined 
her  by  the  dim  light  from  the  lamp  in  the  ceiling  of 
the  observation  platform.  "  My  orders  are — "  he  be 
gan. 

"  I  must  see  him,"  she  repeated.  She  advanced  so 
firmly  that  he  could  not  but  give  way. 

She  ascended  the  steps,  stood  before  the  closed 
door.  The  guard,  watching  her,  saw  that  she  was 
nerving  herself.  She  knocked  softly.  A  nurse  opened 
the  door.  She  advanced,  so  evidently  one  whose  right 
may  not  be  questioned  that  the  nurse  yielded,  saying 
in  an  undertone,  "  I  guess  the  doctor  wouldn't  mind 
your  looking  at  him.  But  you  mustn't  touch  him  or 
make  a  sound." 

The  young  woman  made  no  answer;  she  had  not 
heard.  She  went  along  the  passage  between  the  small 
rooms,  stood  at  the  head  of  the  great  couch  in  the 
center  of  the  large  room  so  that  it  would  be  accessible 
from  all  sides.  In  the  dimness  she  gazed  at  that  couch 
as  if  it  were  the  bier  on  which  the  dead — her  dead — 
was  awaiting  burial.  He  had  partially  recovered 
consciousness  a  few  minutes  before  her  coming,  and 
was  struggling  vainly  to  reconnect  the  broken  thread. 
Into  his  nostrils  stole  the  faint  odor  of  her  perfume. 
"  Juliet !  "  he  murmured.  "  Juliet !  " 

She  moved  to  the  side  of  the  couch  and  sank  on  her 
knees.  She  did  not  heed  the  nurse's  signals,  the  men 
acing  gesture  of  Presbury,  who  had  just  entered. 
"  Yes,"  she  answered,  clasping  Murdock's  wandering 
hand  in  hers.  "  I  am  here." 

"  Juliet,"  he  repeated.     "  My  Juliet." 
222 


DERAILED 


"  Yes,  dear."  And  she  leaned  forward  and  touched 
her  lips  to  his  hand.  "  Now  you  must  sleep,"  she  said, 
her  voice  like  a  soothing  caress,  her  fingers  passing 
softly  over  his  brow. 

"  Sleep,"  he  murmured.  He  gave  a  great  sigh,  and 
was  quiet. 

Not  until  she  was  quite  sure  it  would  not  disturb 
him  did  she  gently  disengage  her  fingers.  When  she 
joined  Presbury  outside  the  door,  he  was  no  longer 
scowling.  "  I  see  you  know  what  you're  about,"  said 
he.  "  You  are  Mr.  Murdock's — "  He  paused  for  her 
to  add  the  detail  of  exact  relationship. 

"  My  name  is  Raeburn — Juliet  Raeburn." 

"  Ah,"  said  Presbury,  like  a  man  who  is  waiting  to 
hear  more. 

She  and  he  looked  intently  each  at  the  other.  She 
did  not  resent  hhe  insinuation  in  his  cynical,  good-hu 
mored,  beard-veiled  face.  "  He  and  I,"  she  went  on, 
"  are  more  to  each  other  than  blood  relations.  Or, 
rather,  I  am  nothing  to  him,  but  he  is — everything 
to  me." 

"  I  understand." 

Her  expression  did  not  change  before  his  look  of 
polite  impertinence.  "  No,"  replied  she.  "  You  do 
not  understand.  But  that  does  not  matter.  I  need 
only  explain  that  if  he  could  speak  he  would  wish  me 
to  be  here." 

"  So  I  heard,"  said  Presbury.  Then,  "  Mrs.  Mur- 
dock  is  coming." 

"  I  must  stay." 

"  It  is  impossible." 

"  You  must  make  me  one  of  the  nurses." 

"  Impossible." 

"Why?" 

223 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

Presbury  smiled  cynically.  "  The  deception  will 
be  discovered  and — "  He  made  a  gesture  suggestive 
of  the  uproar  that  would  follow. 

"  I  am  principal  partner  in  Dangerfield,  the  dress 
maker.  I  guarantee  you  against  loss.  Besides,  there 
is  only  the  remotest  possibility  that  the  deception  will 
be  discovered.  No  one " — she  smiled  strangely — 
"  not  even  he — knows  what  he  is  to  me.  And  if,  by 
chance,  the  deception,  as  you  call  it,  should  be  discov 
ered,  you  can  plead  that  you,  too,  were  deceived." 

Presbury  had  been  smiling  his  appreciation  of  her 
acuteness,  especially  in  going  direct  to  his  chief  ob 
jection — loss — and  meeting  it.  "  Oh,  you  are  that 
Miss  Raeburn,"  he  now  said.  "  You've  done  so  much 
for  my  wife  and  daughters,  it's  hard  to  refuse  you 
anything — anything  within  reason." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Juliet,  simply. 

"  And  you  are  the  best  possible  nurse  for  him," 
continued  Presbury.  There  was  no  longer  a  hint  of 
the  insolent  amusement.  Presbury  was  not  so  cynical 
that  he  had  ceased  to  be  wise.  He  did  not  understand ; 
but  he  did  realize  that  his  first  suspicions  were  more  or 
less  wide  of  the  mark — more  or  less. 

"  How  is  he  ?  "  she  now  asked.  "  You  need  not  fear 
telling  me  the  exact  truth." 

"  We  sha'n't  know  anything  definite  for  several 
days.  The  smash  he  got  ought  to  kill.  Again,  a  man 
as  young  and  powerful  as  he  is — and  with  an  incentive 
to  live — "  That,  with  a  half-humorous,  half-envious 
smile  at  her  beauty,  full  of  the  charm  of  mystery  in 
the  nebulous  starlight —  "  Well,  he  ought  to  be  able 
to  rise  from  the  dead.  And  he's  far  from  dead,  my 
dear  young  lady.  A  man  is  either  alive  or  dead. 
There's  nothing  between.  This  man  is  alive." 


DERAILED 

"  We  will  save  him,"  said  she.  Her  face  had  grown 
more  haggard  as  Presbury  thus  let  her  know  that  only 
hope  remained.  But  her  tone  was  without  a  trace  of 
weakness. 

"  We  might  be  able  to  do  it,"  replied  he.  "  This 
mountain  air,  now  that  it  is  saturated  with  faith  and 
hope,  ought  to  work  miracles." 

Juliet  was  glancing  at  the  ends  of  the  temporary 
track.  "  This  siding  should  be  extended,"  said  she. 
"  The  car  must  be  back  in  the  woods,  away  from  the 
noise  of  trains  on  the  main  line." 

Presbury  patted  her  shoulder.  "  It  shall  be  done 
at  once.  Stupid  of  me  not  to  have  thought  of  it." 
He  patted  her  again.  "  You  shall  stay  as  long  as  you 
like." 


XVI 

SOPHY    FINDS    A    FRIEND 

IN  the  morning  by  the  first  express  came  Blagden, 
with  the  dazed  and  wandering  eye  that  betokens  a 
secret,  harrowing  anxiety.  The  news  had  found  the 
private  secretary  at  Newport,  passing  his  vacation, 
as  was  his  custom,  in  visits  among  his  rich  and 
fashionable  relations.  People  of  their  class  have 
learned  by  experience  how  rarely  those  born  in  wealth 
have  real  capacity,  how  unlikely  it  is  that,  if  they  lose 
their  wealth,  they  will  ever  recuperate.  In  the  broad, 
human  beings  of  whatever  station  give,  not  as  they 
wish  or  expect  to  receive,  but  as  they  actually  do  re 
ceive.  Used  to  being  sought  only  to  be  exploited,  they 
seek  only  to  exploit.  Their  ideal — and  usually  their 
pretense — is  altruism.  But  their  best  hope  is  to  get 
something  for  nothing,  their  best  expectation  is  at 
least  to  get  more  than  they  give — whether  of  benefits 
material  or  of  benefits  spiritual.  Blagden  was  an  unu 
sually  attractive  man,  a  man  of  taste,  of  not  a  little 
wit,  of  excellent  address  and  appearance.  That  did 
not  save  him.  Between  the  loss  of  his  patrimony  and 
the  getting  of  the  confidential  position  hopefully  near 
the  rich  Murdock,  he  had  been  received  by  his  relatives 
on  his  annual  pilgrimage  to  the  gates  of  his  earthly 
paradise  with  a  patient  resignation  which  would  have 
sorely  tried  sensibilities  not  coarsened  and  hardened 

226 


SOPHY  FINDS  A    FRIEND 

by  lifelong  experience  of  fashionable  ways.  His  aunts 
and  cousins  employed  him  at  tasks  only  by  strain  of 
imagination  removed  from  the  menial — tasks  hardly 
the  less  galling  because  they  were  congenial — for  Mel 
ville  Blagden  was  a  major-domo  born.  But  the  posi 
tion  near  Murdock  had  changed  all  this;  the  relatives 
began  to  think  perhaps  there  was  "  some  manhood  in 
poor  Mel,  after  all  " — which  was  the  human  way  of  in 
dicating  that  Melville  was  once  more  inspiring  hopes 
that,  instead  of  being  a  pensioner,  he  would  be  useful, 
perhaps  very  useful.  Being  shrewd,  Blagden  sedu 
lously  watered  this  hope,  making  his  relatives  and 
friends  believe  he  was  close  indeed  to  "  that  Western 
bounder  Mel's  in  with." 

His  cousin,  Betty  Sulloway,  brought  him  the  ti 
dings  that  spelled  disaster  for  him  and  death  for  the 
hopes  of  his  relatives.  "  You  certainly  do  have  the 
damnedest  luck,  Mel,"  said  she  sympathetically. 
"  Now,  you'll  have  to  begin  all  over  again." 

Blagden  was  too  crushed  to  reply.  He  went 
gloomily  through  the  palace  "  cottage  "  of  the  Sullo- 
ways  to  his  own  apartment,  modest  for  that  house  but 
far  from  plainly  furnished  and  decorated.  He  got 
himself  out  of  his  elegant  evening  dress  and  into  an 
elegant  traveling  suit — the  suit  from  the  best  dealer 
in  tweeds  in  London,  the  shirt  and  tie  from  the  rue 
de  la  Paix.  Within  the  hour  he  was  gone. 

So  delightfully  is  life  adapted  to  humanity's  fond 
ness  for  altruistic  pretense,  he  reached  Azure  Lake 
firmly  convinced  that  his  chief  anxiety  was  not  for 
himself  but  for  the  generous  employer-friend  who  was 
about  to  die.  After  talking  with  Presbury  he  felt  a 
little  better;  at  least,  there  would  be  time  to  plan,  to 
look  about,  to  search  the  ruins  for  salvage.  So  pre- 
227 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

occupied  was  he  that  he  passed  Juliet  Raeburn  sev 
eral  times  without  penetrating  the  disguise  of  the  ill- 
fitting  borrowed  nurse's  costume  and  hair  primly  done. 
It  was  a  note  in  Presbury's  voice — a  note  of  consid 
eration  and  respect — that  finally  turned  his  eyes  see- 
ingly  upon  her  face.  He  stared  with  lips  ajar;  when 
he  recovered  himself,  began  his  smile  and  made  ready 
to  bow,  he  froze  before  her  gaze  so  unruffled  that  his 
first  thought  was,  "  She  has  forgotten  me."  A  mo 
ment's  reflection,  and  he  knew  this  could  not  be  so;  at 
the  same  time  he  decided  it  was  the  part  of  discretion 
to  accept  her  hint. 

He  did  not  try  to  sound  Simcox ;  he  had  had  ex 
perience  of  the  valet's  tomblike  silence  that  merely 
echoed  a  questioner's  question.  Instead,  he  skillfully 
gossiped  round  among  the  attendants,  with  the  result 
that  he  was  soon  in  possession  of  the  mode  of  Miss 
Raeburn's  arrival,  and  of  the  suspicion  that  Dr.  Pres- 
bury  had  covert  reasons  for  accepting  her  as  nurse, 
where  there  were  already  four,  all  known  in  the  New 
York  profession — "  and  none  of  us  ever  heard  of  this 
Miss  Ray,"  said  the  gossiping  nurse.  "  Do  you  know 
her,  Mr.  Blagden?  " — this  with  a  sly  smile  of  antici 
pation  of  a  sentimental  insinuation. 

But  he  was  far  too  prudent  to  gratify  Miss  Carley. 
"  What  nonsense !  "  said  he.  "  Mr.  Murdock  isn't  that 
sort.  Women  play  no  part  in  his  life." 

Miss  Carley  laughed;  as  she  had  brilliant  eyes  and 
fine  teeth  it  was  her  habit  to  laugh  a  great  deal,  and 
to  rally  her  three  sister  nurses — all  of  whom  had 
rather  poor  teeth — upon  their  uncheerful  sobriety  of 
countenance.  "  A  man's  a  man,"  retorted  she.  "  The 
stronger  he  is  as  a  man,  the  more  certain  to  have  a 
weakness  for  woman — or  women.  Besides,  you  should 

228 


SOPHY   FINDS   'A    FRIEND 

have  heard  your  cold,  busy  Mr.  Murdock  say  '  Ju 
liet.'  Why,  he's  quite  mad  about  her." 

"  Pure  romancing,"  Blagden  assured  her.  He  was 
curt,  now  that  he  had  got  what  he  wanted ;  he  did  not 
like  Miss  Carley's  presuming  upon  his  democratic  man 
ner  to  treat  him  as  if  he  were  her  equal;  also,  he  was 
not  attracted  by  her  beauty  of  slenderness,  his  femi 
nine  ideal  being  of  the  robust,  exuberant  type.  "  Mr. 
Murdock,"  he  coldly  insisted,  "  was  quite  out  of  his 
mind." 

The  nurse,  expert  in  New  York  fashionable  class 
psychology,  instantly  felt  and  understood  the  secre 
tary's  haughtiness.  She  tossed  her  head,  laughed 
again — a  brave  show  of  fine  teeth,  but  in  anger.  Per 
haps,  even  more  than  his  attempt  to  put  her  in  her 
place,  she  resented  his  lack  of  appreciation  of  her 
beauty.  This  was  the  more  unjust  in  her  because  her 
taste  in  men  corresponded  to  his.  She  detested  the 
smooth,  lean,  sinewy  type  of  which  Blagden  was  a  fair 
specimen ;  she  liked  the  obstreperously  masculine,  as  he 
the  flauntingly  feminine — liked  bristling  hair  and 
whiskers,  rough  skin,  knotted  calves  and  biceps  and 
shoulders,  as  he  liked  bouncing  hip  and  bosom,  massive 
leg  and  arm.  She  eyed  Blagden  contemptuously — the 
contempt  divided  among  his  appearance,  his  "  snob 
bishness,"  and  his  remark.  "  He  out  of  his  mind  ?  " 
cried  she.  "  No  more  than  I  am."  She  paused  to  take 
careful  aim  before  firing  her  best  ammunition :  "  When 
did  you  say  Mrs.  Murdock  was  coming?  " 

Blagden  winced,  hastened  to  recover.  "  To-night, 
I  believe." 

And  with  a  formal  bow,  gracious  yet  definitive  of  the 
nurse's  social  rank,  went  away  to  reflect  upon  the  im 
minent  catastrophe.  He  saw  it  was  his  duty  to  Mur- 

229 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

dock  to  prevent  it,  if  possible;  but  how?  He  turned 
the  problem  round  and  round,  could  find  only  one  pos 
sible  solution — to  go  straight  to  Dr.  Presbury.  "  I 
hope  you  will  not  insist  upon  my  reasons,  doctor,"  he 
began,  as  they  were  taking  a  walk  together  after 
luncheon,  "  but  you  must  send  Miss  Ray  away — before 
Mrs.  Murdock  arrives." 

"  Can't  be  done,"  said  Presbury.  Blagden  thought 
he  saw  a  knowing  grin  behind  those  bushy  brows  and 
whiskers  which  though  coal  black  were  so  crisp  that 
they  accentuated  the  look  of  cleanness  his  pallid,  clear 
skin  gave  him.  "  She's  the  best  of  my  nurses — the  only 
one  who  takes  intelligent  interest  in  her  work.  Nurses 
are  like  all  professional  women — in  business  simply  to 
live  until  they  can  thimblerig  some  man  into  supporting 
them,  and  using  the  business  as  a  blind.  It's  difficult 
to  get  a  nurse  interested  in  a  married  man.  Miss  Ray 
is  my  sheet  anchor." 

"  Miss  Raeburn  must  be  sent  away,"  insisted  Blag- 
den. 

The  doctor  was  watching  the  swishing  trail  of  a  deer 
flying  through  the  brush.  "  Miss  Ray  will  stay,"  said 
he,  ignoring  Blagden's  intentional  slip.  "  She's  the 
medicine." 

"  But  when  Mrs.  Murdock  comes — "  began  Blag- 
den  desperately. 

"  When  Mrs.  Murdock  comes,"  Presbury  cut  in,  "  she 
will  stay  quietly  in  her  car  on  the  other  siding  that  was 
finished  this  morning.  No  one — no  one — shall  see  my 
patient  until  he  is  out  of  danger."  And  he  looked 
straight  into  the  secretary's  eyes.  "  No  one,"  he  re 
peated.  "  Not  even  his  wife." 

"Oh,"  murmured  Blagden.  "I  see."  Then  he 
added,  "  Perhaps  that  will  be  all  right." 

230 


SOPHY   FINDS   A    FRIEND 

"  You  say  you  spent  three  years  at  Vienna,"  replied 
Presbury.  "  But  that  was  since  the  Ring  was  built. 
Now  in  the  old  days — "  And  Miss  Ray  was  not  further 
discussed. 

When  the  night  express  trailing  Mrs.  Murdock's  car 
drew  up  at  the  platform,  Presbury  was  at  Blagden's  side 
to  receive  her.  She  descended,  Norma  and  Charley 
close  behind  her.  "  No  change,"  was  Blagden's  response 
to  the  question  in  their  anxious  eyes.  "  Here  is  Dr. 
Presbury." 

"  No  immediate  danger,  madam,"  said  Presbury. 
"  And — hope !  Always  hope !  " 

"  We  will  go  to  him,"  said  Mrs.  Murdock,  in  man 
ner  and  in  feeling  the  devoted,  agonized  wife.  As  she 
was  to  be  among  strangers  she  was  dressed  with  care, 
and  looked  almost  unrecognizably  different  from  the  inti 
mate  Sophy — neater,  cleaner,  with  her  fine  eyes  and  her 
delicate  nose  and  her  attractive  mouth  getting  more  of 
a  chance  to  lift  her  face  toward  beauty.  "  We  will  go 
to  him  at  once,"  she  said  with  a  sob. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  inflexibly.  "  I  per 
mit  no  one  to  go  near  the  car  but  myself  and  my 
assistants." 

Sophy  looked  up  and  down  the  track.  No  car  in 
sight  but  those  attached  to  the  train.  "  The  siding  over 
there,"  explained  Blagden,  "  has  been  extended  into  the 
woods,  and  we've  rolled  his  car  and  the  one  we  use  as 
far  as  possible  from  the  noise  of  passing  trains."  He 
had  moved  to  Sophy's  side,  and  his  tone  was  most  satis 
factory  in  sympathetic  and  soothing  quality.  Sophy 
gave  him  a  grateful  look  that  thrilled  him.  He  had 
always  admired  her,  had  striven  to  stand  well  with  her, 
by  no  means  altogether  or  even  chiefly  from  motives  of 
prudence. 

231 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   "NEW 

"  You'll  want  a  second  car,  madam,"  said  Presbury, 
"  as  it'll  be  a  long  siege." 

"  When  can  we  see  him?  "  asked  Norma  of  Presbury. 

"  When  the  crisis  is  past.  He  must  not  be  agi 
tated." 

Sophy  and  her  children  gazed  at  one  another  drear 
ily.  Blagden  burned  with  indignation.  He  never  looked 
at  Sophy,  always  dressed  up  when  he  was  about  and, 
further,  englamoured  for  him  by  her  surroundings  of 
wealth — he  never  looked  at  her  without  admiring  her  eyes 
and  nose,  her  delicate,  aristocratic  hands  and  feet,  wrists 
and  ankles,  and  her  "  sumptuous "  charms  of  figure, 
without  thinking  what  a  magnificent  woman,  what  a 
Juno,  she  would  be,  if  she  but  knew  the  New  York  arts 
of  the  toilet.  "  It  takes  substance,  something  more  than 
bones,"  he  had  often  reflected,  "  to  set  off  the  position 
her  wealth  ought  to  give  her."  Now,  her  forlornness, 
the  shameless  trick  Presbury  was  playing  upon  her, 
roused  his  sense  of  her  charms,  "  so  womanly,"  to  its 
keenest.  "  A  damned  outrage,"  he  muttered ;  and  he 
abruptly  drew  Presbury  aside.  "  Look  here,  doctor,"  re 
monstrated  he,  "  this  won't  do !  The  wife  and  the  chil 
dren  have  rights.  They  come  before  —  before  —  that 
woman." 

Presbury  regarded  him  patiently.  "  Who  is  in 
charge  of  this  case  ?  "  said  he.  "  Who  is  responsible  for 
the  event?" 

"  But " 

"  Now,  my  dear  sir !  Wouldn't  it  be  well  for  you  to 
do  a  little  thinking  before  you  make  suggestions  in  im 
portant  matters  ?  Pray,  in  the  circumstances,  how  could 
you  arrange  it  to  let  them  see  him,  without  throwing  him 
into  violent  agitation  ?  " 

"  But  he  knows  they  are  here,  or  soon  will  be." 


SOPHY  FINDS  A    FRIEND 

"  He  is  all  but  unconscious — and  will  be — must  be — 
until  the  crisis." 

Blagden  showed  the  flaring  red  his  skin  of  the  red 
haired  permitted.  "  I  am  an  ass,"  he  apologized.  Then, 
"  It's  really  amazing — this  lonely  place,  yet  things  going 
on  that  one  would  say  could  not  be  kept  secret  even  in 
a  city." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  said 
Presbury.  "  Hadn't  you  better  see  that  Mr.  Murdock's 
family  are  comfortable,  now  that  their  car  is  in  place 
on  the  other  siding?  Have  you  ordered  a  second  car 
for  them?  .  .  .  You  may  be  sure  of  one  thing,"  he 
added,  with  a  stern  look  into  Blagden' s  greenish  eyes. 
"  In  no  circumstances  will  I  deprive  myself  of  my  one 
competent  nurse." 

"  I'll  do  all  I  can  to  help  you,"  said  Blagden,  with  an 
air  of  generosity. 

"  I  should  say  that  would  be  wise,"  was  Presbury's 
blunt  reply.  "  Mr.  Murdock  may  recover."  Presbury 
assumed  all  human  beings  acted  from  motives  of  self- 
interest,  and  he  always  let  them  see  he  was  so  assuming. 
In  the  practice  of  his  profession,  he  could  not  afford 
to  humor  humanity's  passion  for  the  petty  deceptions 
of  pose.  Pose  might  be  tolerated  as  harmless  and  even 
amusing  in  the  ordinary  scenes  of  the  comedy  of  life; 
but  when  the  stern  issue  of  death  must  be  faced — then, 
facts,  only  facts,  hard  and  clear  of  all  rubbish  of  sen- 
timentalism. 

He  departed  for  Murdock's  car ;  Blagden  telegraphed 
for  another  car,  then  joined  the  family,  to  recite  all  the 
details  of  the  accident  and  Murdock's  exact  condition, 
to  give  them  hope  yet  not  to  raise  hope  so  high  that 
disaster  would  come  when  Murdock  died — and  of  that 
Blagden  had  hardly  a  doubt.  He  had  thought  little 
16  233 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

about  the  complications  caused  by  the  presence  of  Juliet 
Raeburn,  so  occupied  had  he  been  in  revolving  his  own 
future — what  should  he  do  when  Murdock  was  dead; 
how  could  he  turn  the  imminent  setback  to  his  career  into 
advantage?  "  For  the  strong,  defeats  are  milestones  on 
the  highway  to  victory,"  was  one  of  Murdock's  many 
aphorisms  which  had  found  lodgment  in  his  receptive 
mind.  Now  was  his  opportunity  to  show  he  had  not 
gone  to  school  to  Murdock  in  vain,  but  was  indeed  one 
of  the  strong  and  skillful  to  whom  belong  the  earth 
and  its  people.  What  should  he  do  first?  Obviously, 
ingratiate  himself  with  the  family,  especially  with  Mrs, 
Murdock.  He  had  hoped  for  riches  through  Murdock, 
and  no  doubt  Murdock  had  remembered  him  in  his  will ; 
but  at  most  he  would  get  twenty  thousand,  possibly 
fifty,  maybe  not  more  than  ten.  Mrs.  Murdock  would 
need  advice ;  who  so  well  qualified  as  he  to  be  her  intimate 
adviser?  The  secretary  began  to  see  at  least  one  pos-» 
sible  combination  of  circumstances  that  would  change  his 
employer's  death  from  a  catastrophe  to  a  benefit. 

When  Norma  and  Charley  went  for  a  walk,  taking 
on  Blagden's  advice  the  direction  exactly  opposite  to 
that  of  Murdock's  car,  he  laid  energetic  siege  to  their 
mother's  confidence.  We  cannot  but  like  those  who  sin 
cerely  like  us ;  it  is  even  hard  for  us  to  withstand  our 
vanity's  pleadings  in  behalf  of  those  whose  blandish 
ments  we  know  to  be  insincere.  Sophy,  absorbed  in  her 
self,  had  given  little  heed  to  the  employees  Murdock 
always  had  in  train.  She  had  noted  Blagden  hardly 
more  than  the  others,  though  each  time  he  came  to  Saint 
X  he  made  a  point  of  being  polite  to  her.  Now,  how 
ever,  she  was  in  a  mood  of  uphe^al ;  and  in  her  aloneness 
and  perplexity  and  agitation  she  was  instantly  respon- 

234 


SOPHY  FINDS  A    FRIEND 

sive  to  his  tender  deference.  She  soon  let  him  see  that 
some  secret  lay  heavily  upon  her  mind  and  heart. 

"  Mr.  Murdock  talks  over  all  his  private  affairs  with 
you,  doesn't  he?  "  she  asked. 

"  Naturally,"  replied  he. 

"  Then  of  course  you  know  about  the — the  disagree 
ment  between  us?  " 

Blagden  was  silent,  waiting  eagerly  for  light — which 
could  best  be  got  by  pretending  he  already  had  it. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  confess  it," 
she  went  on,  assuming  he  knew  all,  "  but  a  person 
can't  help  thinking  things.  Of  course,  his  suffering 
has  driven  me  nearly  distracted.  But  I  can't  help  wor 
rying,  too,  about — about  whether  he  made  some  sort  of 
foolish  will." 

She  glanced  uneasily  at  Blagden ;  his  expression  re 
assured  her.  He  had  been  brought  up  where  material 
considerations  are  too  powerful,  too  dominant,  too  vital, 
to  be  made  the  subject  of  pretenses  when  they  are  immedi 
ately  at  stake.  It  seemed  to  him  not  only  proper  but 
necessary  that  in  the  circumstances  she  should  be  anx 
ious.  "  You  have  your  children,  their  future,  to  think 
of,"  supplied  he  tactfully. 

"  That's  it,"  cried  she,  rewarding  him  with  a  beam 
ing  look  from  the  fine  eyes.  She  at  once  saw  that  it 
wasn't  for  herself  she  was  worrying,  but  for  Norma  and 
Charley. 

"  Of  course,"  continued  Blagden,  "  I  couldn't  in 
honor  say  anything  about  his  will,  about  any  of  his 
private  affairs,  even  if  I  knew."  The  "  if  I  knew  "  saved 
his  self-respect;  for  he  knew  almost  nothing  of  Mur- 
dock's  really  private  affairs,  nothing  at  all  of  his  will. 
His  experience  of  Murdock's  character  assured  him  that, 
whatever  might  be  the  relations  between  the  husband  and 

235 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 


the  wife,  the  will  could  not  be  harsh  or  even  ungenerous. 
But  to  say  this  might  possibly  be  a  cruel  raising  of 
groundless  hopes ;  besides,  would  not  saying  it  end  this 
new  and  promising  intimacy  ?  He  ostentatiously  pressed 
his  lips  together  and  permitted  an  expression  of  gloom 
to  overspread  his  features. 

Sophy  began  to  weep.  "  You  don't  know  how  I  have 
suffered,  Mr.  Blagden.  He  was  a  good  man  in  so  many 
ways.  But  he  didn't  appreciate  having  a  good  wife  and 
a  family  that  loved  him.  I  forgive  him  now,  but  it  has 
aged  me  terribly — all  the  anguish  he  has  caused  me." 

That  Sophy  could  speak  thus  generously  of  Mur- 
dock  when  the  darkest  doubts  of  him  were  harassing  her 
was  for  Blagden  proof  of  the  fundamental  kindliness 
of  her  character.  But  he  might  have  withstood  this  had 
she  not  been  weeping.  Those  of  shallow  discernment 
and  shallow  sensibilities  are  most  easily  moved  by  out 
ward  evidences  of  grief,  though  outward  evidences  are 
significant  only  as  they  are  suppressed.  Sophy  wept 
freely;  the  sympathetic  tears  sprang  to  his  own  eyes. 
"  Dear  Mrs.  Murdock,"  he  cried,  "  I  am  sure  you  are 
mistaken — certainly  about  the  will."  And  he  felt  contrite 
that  he  had,  even  by  indirection,  contributed  to  her 
woes.  "  So  far  as  my  knowledge  of  Mr.  Murdock's 
affairs  extends,  there  is  no  cause  for  anxiety  about 
his  will." 

Sophy  dried  her  eyes.  Her  voice,  with  its  vesper- 
bell  sweetness,  with  its  note  of  lingering  plain tiveness, 
was  most  attractive,  never  failed  to  charm  not  too- 
accustomed  ears.  Upon  Blagden  it  had  its  full  effect. 
Her  simple,  grateful  "  Thank  you — oh,  thank  you,  Mr. 
Blagden,"  made  him  literally  tremble  with  emotion.  He 
watched  her  innocent,  limpid  eyes  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy. 
Presently  she  went  on :  "I  can't  but  feel  that  this  was 

236 


SOPHY   FINDS   A    FRIEND 

a  special  providence.  Yes,  it  was  God's  way  of  halt 
ing  him." 

Blagden  maintained  a  respectful  and  discreet  si 
lence.  He  was  not  religious,  but  under  the  spell  of 
Sophy's  eyes  and  voice  and  ample  charms  he  began  to 
wonder  if  some  higher  power  or  other  had  not  been  inter 
fering. 

"  What  he  wanted  was  showiness,"  she  went  on. 
"  And  he  fell  into  the  devil's  trap,  as  so  many  men  do." 

"  I  can't  comprehend  it,"  said  Blagden.  And  his 
tone  of  shocked,  profound  amazement  was  quite  sincere. 
Sophy,  so  luxuriant  of  person,  so  rich,  so  grandly  sur 
rounded,  seemed  to  him  a  most  unusual  woman.  What 
she  did  and  what  she  said  impressed  him  with  all  the 
weight  of  her  wealth.  "  I  can't  comprehend  it,"  he 
repeated. 

"  I  gave  him  my  youth  and  beauty,"  said  she  mourn- 
,  fully.  "  And  he— 

"  Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Murdock,"  he  interrupted,  in  his 
frank,  engaging  way.  "  You  must  let  me  say,  as  an  old 
friend,  that  you  oughtn't  to  think  that  sort  of  thing. 
Why,  in  New  York,  women  much  older  than  you  are 
regarded  as  young.  Many  don't  think  of  marrying 
until  about  your  age.  As  for  looks,  you  dress  far  too 
old  for  your  years — if  I  may  say  it — at  least,  according 
to  New  York  ideas.  But  even  with  that,  you're  always 
spoken  of  as  one  of  the  handsome  young  married  women 
of  Saint  X." 

In  seven  years'  experience  in  flattering  his  way 
through  life,  Blagden  had  learned  that  subtlety  in  com 
pliment  is  a  mistake,  that  ears  refined  drink  in  no  less 
greedily  than  ears  coarse  the  bluntest  flattery,  if  it  be 
not  too  obviously  insincere;  also,  what  he  had  said  to 
Mrs.  Murdock  had  been  genuine.  Still,  his  words  star- 

237 


OLD   WIVES  FOB  NEW 

tied  him ;  he  glanced  at  her,  ready  to  draw  back.  Her 
expression  was  more  than  reassuring ;  it  was  encourag 
ing.  The  effect  of  stimulants  is  in  direct  proportion 
to  their  novelty  to  the  system  to  which  they  are  ad 
ministered  ;  Blagden  could  not  have  found  a  better  sub 
ject  than  Sophy,  so  long  without  the  stimulant  of  com 
pliment  that  it  would  affect  her  as  wine  affects  a  child. 

"  You  have  been  living  too  retired  a  life,"  said  he. 
"  In  trying  to  do  your  duty  to  husband  and  children, 
you've  been  forgetting  your  duty  to  yourself." 

"  My  life's  all  behind  me,"  sighed  she,  longing  to  be 
contradicted. 

He  smiled  with  raillery.  "  You  and  I,  as  I  happen 
to  know,  are  of  about  the  same  age.  I  consider  myself, 
and  am  considered,  a  young  man  just  beginning  his 
career." 

She  shook  her  head  in  faint,  reluctant  protest  against 
the  implication  that  she,  too,  had  a  career  before  her. 
"  It's  different  with  a  man,"  said  she.  "  The  world  was 
made  for  men.  A  woman's  done  at  thirty." 

There  he  laughed  outright.  "  You  really  mustn't 
say  that  sort  of  thing,  Mrs.  Murdock.  That's  the  point 
of  view  of  old-fashioned  people,  I  know ;  but  you  and  I 
belong  to  the  new  generation.  Personally,  I  take  no 
interest  in  a  woman  until  she  has  passed  thirty.  She's 
too  unformed  and  unreliable.  To  be  interesting,  one 
must  have  lived  a  while." 

Sophy's  azure  eyes  were  indeed  alight  now.  "  You're 
just  saying  that  to  cheer  me  up,  Mr.  Blagden.  Men  care 
for  women  only  when  the  bloom  is  on  them."  She  was 
blushing  delightfully. 

"  Men  care  for  women  only  when  they're  in  bloom," 
corrected  he.  "  A  man  of  the  world  wants  a  woman,  a 
companion,  not  a  plaything."  And  his  glance  linger- 

238 


SOPHY   FINDS   A    FRIEND 

ingly,  meaningly  yet  with  discretion,  made  excursion 
from  her  eyes  to  her  luxuriant  figure,  to  her  delicate 
hands,  to  her  comely  feet,  to  her  eyes  again. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  she  cried,  feeling 
a  delicious  tickling  sensation,  of  unknown  and  unsus 
pected  origin,  from  head  to  feet.  "  I  am  glad  there  are 
some  men  in  the  world  not  altogether  low-minded.  .  .  . 
If  I  could  only  get  my  worry  about — about  the  will  off 
my  mind." 

"  Don't  let  that  trouble  you,"  urged  he  with  con 
vincing  warmth.  "  Not  for  an  instant." 

A  pause,  then  Sophy  ingenuously  showed  what  was 
really  on  her  mind.  She  flushed,  lowered  her  eyes,  asked 
shyly :  "  You  know — her  ?  You  were  in  the  woods  with 
them — that  time — weren't  you  ?  " 

Blagden  blushed  painfully.  "  Really,  Mrs.  Mur 
dock,  I  hope  you'll  not  forget  the  position  I " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  cried  she  repentantly.  "  But 
I  thought  as  he  and  I  had  practically  arranged  for  the 
divorce,  you'd  feel  free  to  talk." 

The  divorce!  Blagden  had  some  difficulty  in  cloak 
ing  his  stark  amazement.  The  divorce!  Murdock  and 
his  wife  were  going  to  get  a  divorce!  .  .  .  Instantly, 
like  the  stage  Satan  suddenly  projected  through  a  trap 
door,  a  scheme  audacious  yet  apparently  practicable 
leaped  into  his  small,  quick  mind.  Used  thus  far  to 
executing  orders  from  others,  and  plotting  on  his  own 
account  in  petty  ways  only,  he  was  overwhelmed  by  this 
project.  Here  was  indeed  opening  to  practice  his  wis 
dom  gained  from  Murdock.  "It's  my  chance,"  said 
he  to  his  fluttered  self.  "  Opportunity  knocks  at  the 
door  just  once."  He  hastily  brought  his  thoughts  back 
to  the  conversation,  to  Sophy's  inquiry  about  the  other 
woman. 

239 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I  don't  mind  saying  she's  not  my  style — not  what 
we  call  a  lady.  But  then — "  He  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders  faintly —  "  what's  to  be  expected  of  such  people  ?  " 

Mrs.  Murdock  slowly  reddened  with  the  effort  to 
utter  her  next  question.  "  Do  you  think  he  intends  to 
marry  her?  " 

Blagden  reflected.  If  he  should  say  yes,  it  would 
certainly  irritate ;  if  he  should  say  no,  it  could  not  but 
please.  It  was  a  duty,  as  well  as  a  wile,  to  please  one 
so  fine,  so  gentle,  so  put-upon.  "  Men  don't  marry  that 
sort,"  said  he. 

"  Then  she's  just  a — a  common  woman?  " 

"  Really,  I  know  nothing  about  her — except  her — " 
He  hesitated,  ventured —  "  her  conduct."  He  wore  a 
hangdog  look  now,  for  he  felt  he  was  traitor,  sneak,  and 
liar.  But  he  instantly  justified  himself.  "  Isn't  the 
woman  here  ?  "  he  reminded  himself.  "  And  won't  what 
I'm  saying  help  Murdock  to  get  his  divorce  if  he  should 
live?  I'm  doing  both  him  and  his  wife  a  favor  in  help 
ing  them  to  rid  themselves  of  each  other.  .  .  .  He  doesn't 
appreciate  this  splendid  wife  of  his.  He  has  only  appe 
tites  where  women  are  concerned — no  appreciation  of 
character,  of  devotion — no  gratitude  even.  .  .  .  I'm  vio 
lating  no  confidence  of  his.  .  .  .  By  God,  a  man  doesn't 
sell  his  soul,  his  self-respect  when  he  takes  a  salary  as 
confidential  secretary !  My  relations  with  him  are  in 
business  matters  only.  I've  nothing  to  do  with  his  love 
affairs — his  mistresses."  And  Blagden  was  in  the  full 
swing  of  outraged  virtue. 

"  I  was  afraid  I'd  find  her  here,"  pursued  Sophy. 

Blagden  winced.     "  Mrs.  Murdock !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  I  was.  He  has  put  so  many  indignities  upon 
me.  I've  no  doubt  he'd  send  for  her  if  he  were  conscious. 
I  thought  maybe  she'd  be  brazen  enough  to  come,  just 

240 


SOPHY   FINDS   A    FRIEND 

from  reading  about  it  in  the  papers.  She'd  want  to  get 
near  him  and  take  everything  she  could  lay  her  hands  on, 
perhaps  wheedle  him  into  making  a  will.  I  don't  mind 
telling  you,  Mr.  Blagden — for  you  seem  like  one  of  the 
family,  having  been  at  our  house  so  often,  right  in  with 
us " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Blagden,  tears  in  his  eyes  and 
heart  beating  high.  "  I  have  no  immediate  family  left, 
and  I  never  can  forget  how  good  you've  been  to  me." 
It  seemed  to  him  he  could  dimly  recall  numberless  acts 
of  thoughtful  courtesy  from  her. 

"  I'm  glad  you  realize  how  I've — we've  felt,"  she 
went  on.  "  As  I  was  saying,  I  don't  mind  telling  you, 
I  was  so  sure  she'd  be  here  that  I'd  not  have  come  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  appearances  and  for  the  children.  As 
soon  as  I  heard  the  news  I  said, '  The  hand  of  Almighty 
God ! '  And  while  I've  been  praying  God  to  spare  his 
life  I've  no  hope." 

"  I  fear  you're  right,"  said  Blagden,  his  tone  and 
look  baldly  conventional. 

He  rose,  eager  to  be  gone.  He  did  not  wish  to  be 
questioned  further  about  Miss  Raeburn,  and  so  forced 
to  utter  deliberate  lies.  Also,  he  must  at  once  confer 
alone  with  this  newly  arrived  good  genius  or  bad  sud 
denly  projected  into  his  mind,  must  confer  at  length, 
must  concert  a  plan  of  action ;  for  he  had  learned  from 
his  employer  that  only  carefully  planned  things  have 
much  chance  of  coming  to  pass,  that  the  chief  difference 
between  the  few  who  lead  and  the  many  who  serve  them 
is  that  the  leaders  plan  while  the  masses  fancy  things 
66  just  happen."  Before  he  had  time  or  need  to  invent 
an  excuse  for  taking  leave  of  Sophy,  Norma  and  her 
brother  returned.  At  sight  of  them,  both  Sophy  and 
Blagden  felt  guilty,  and  Sophy  looked  it.  She  remem- 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

bered  the  man  prostrate  on  the  threshold  of  death.  "  He 
don't  deserve  anything  from  me,"  she  thought.  "  But 
I  can't  get  rid  of  the  feeling  we're  husband  and  wife — 
no,  not  even  after  all  he's  made  me  suffer." 

Thus  do  we  bring  our  very  guilt  itself  to  bear  witness 
to  our  superior  virtue. 


XVII 


CHARLEY'S  FIELD  GLASSES 


A  WEEK,  ten  days,  two  weeks;  one  day  exactly  like 
another,  eventless  even  as  to  weather.  Murdock  lay, 
neither  better  nor  worse,  silent  and  almost  motionless, 
in  the  grip  of  death.  Juliet  left  him  only  when  Pres- 
bury  thrust  her  out  to  take  the  air;  and  she  got  such 
small  sleep  as  nature  would  not  be  denied  in  one  of  the 
compartments  between  Murdock's  and  the  rear  door  of 
the  car.  Presbury  and  his  chief  assistant,  Dr.  Mar 
tin,  watched  her  one  evening  as  she  paced  up  and  down 
.the  clearing  beyond  the  cars,  doing  the  second  install 
ment  of  the  two  hours'  walk  Presbury  prescribed  and, 
by  superintending,  compelled. 

"  Strange  case,  that,"  said  Martin. 

"  Unusual,"  corrected  Presbury,  "  but  not  strange." 

"  What  does  she  think  about?  " 

"  She  does  not  think." 

"  Well,  then,  what  does  she  feel?  " 

"  She  does  not  feel.  ...  If  she  thought,  she  would 
go  mad.  If  she  felt,  she  would  die." 

Martin  reflected  on  this.  "  Yet,"  he  finally  observed, 
with  his  best  air  of  the  man  who  thinks  he  is  thinking 
and  thinking  profoundly,  "  yet  we  sometimes  say,  and 
believe,  that  human  nature  is  essentially  selfish." 

Presbury  smiled  the  patient  smile  of  one  who  has 
lived  at  one  who  has  merely  existed,  of  one  who  has  felt 
at  one  who  has  merely  sentimentalized.  "  My  dear 

243 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

young  man,"  said  he,  "  to  get  pleasure — in  the  broad 
sense — is  the  sole  ultimate  purpose  of  all  human  action. 
Differences  of  character  are  differences  of  idea  as  to 
what  pleasure  is,  and  how  to  get  it.  That  accounts  for 
saint  and  for  satyr;  it  accounts  for  Miss  Ray — and  it 
accounts  for — you  and  me." 

"  A  cynical  philosophy,"  said  Martin. 

"  To  shallow  people,"  was  Presbury's  reply,  "  sense 
and  truth  always  seem  cynical  or  else  strained.  Only 
flapdoodle  sounds,  smells,  and  tastes  just  right." 

"  Well,"  maintained  the  younger  doctor,  "  no  matter 
what  you  say,  7  for  one  think  she  loves  him." 

"  Who  said  she  didn't?  "  demanded  Presbury.  "  One 
of  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  discussing  anything  more 
abstruse  than  the  weather  or  scandal  with  the  average 
human  being  is  that  he  doesn't  in  the  least  understand 
what  one  is  talking  about — yet  thinks  he  does.  Loves 
him  ?  Of  course  she  loves  him.  Do  you  know  what  love 
means  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Then  disabuse  your  mind  of  the  notion.  7  never 
saw  a  genuine  case  before,  and  I'm  sure  you,  twenty 
years  my  junior  in  experience,  never  did.  That  is,  I 
never  saw  it  to  know  it.  Love,  I  discover,  is  measured 
wholly  by  what  it  gives.  In  passion,  the  man  loves  not 
at  all,  for  he  gives  nothing,  and  knows  it;  the  woman 
fancies  she  loves,  because  she  fancies  she  has  given  some 
thing — and  she  has  given  her  conventional  self — not 
much,  really,  but  still  a  little.  But  when  a  man  or  a 
woman  gives  his  or  her  all — as  that  splendid  woman 
there  has  given  — "  Presbury  drew  a  long  breath  — 
"  Martin,  we  have  not  lived  in  vain.  We  have  seen 
what  men  climb  to  the  tops  of  the  highest  peaks  in  the 
hope  of  seeing — and  don't  see." 

Ml 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD   GLASSES 

The  younger  doctor  looked  uneasily  at  his  chief,  un 
certain  whether  this  eulogy  was  serious  or  satiric. 

The  last  traces  of  the  wreck  had  been  effaced  by  men 
and  by  nature;  the  newspaper  reports  on  Murdock  had 
dwindled  to  a  daily  paragraph.  Neither  Sophy  nor  her 
4  children  had  yet  been  nearer  his  car  than  fifty  yards; 
the  three  other  doctors,  brought  from  New  York  for 
consultation,  agreed  with  Presbury  that  there  must  be 
no  risk  of  agitation. 

"  This  is  all  very  queer,"  growled  Charley  Murdock, 
from  the  sofa  in  the  general  room  of  the  living  car,  where 
he  sprawled  in  sullen  boredom.  "  I  suppose  these  doc 
tors  know  what  they're  about,  yet  I  must  say  I  never 
heard  of  a  man's  family  being  absolutely  excluded.  Bid 
you,  mother?  " 

Sophy  made  no  reply.  She  was  at  her  fancywork. 
Norma,  reading  near  one  of  the  big  open  windows,  lifted 
her  head  to  give  him  a  warning  look.  It  seemed  to  her 
that,  in  the  peculiar  circumstances,  the  strained  rela 
tions  between  their  father  and  mother,  it  would  be  most 
unwise  to  admit  their  mother  to  the  hospital  car;  and 
if  anyone  of  the  family  were  to  be  admitted,  would  it 
not  for  appearances'  sake  have  to  be  she?  Charley 
answered  the  look  with  a  defiant  frown  and  addressed 
himself  to  Blagden,  who  was  just  entering. 

"  Blagden,"  said  Charley,  "  doesn't  it  strike  you  as 
queer — downright  mysterious?  Only  this  morning,  as 
I  was  circling  round  father's  car,  I  saw  one  of  the  nurses. 
I  called  to  her.  Instead  of  answering  she  made  off 
toward  the  car  almost  at  a  run." 

The  secretary  wheeled  abruptly  to  hide  his  discon 
certed  face.  "  The  doctors  have  forbidden  the  nurses 
to  discuss  his  condition  with  anyone,"  he  suggested  in 
his  usual  fashionable  drawl,  when  he  ventured  to  about 

245 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

face.      "  Probably    she    took    you    for    a    newspaper 
reporter." 

"  Perhaps,"  conceded  Charley.  "  But,  by  Jove,  / 
smell  mystery." 

"  Now  we  can  have  a  little  bridge,"  said  Sophy,  roll 
ing  up  the  fancywork — still  the  centerpiece. 

Late  that  afternoon  Norma,  with  her  mother  in  the 
general  room  of  their  living  car,  glanced  up  from  her 
novel  to  see  Charley  making  elaborate  fantastic  signals 
to  her  to  join  him  without  attracting  their  mother's 
attention.  She  shook  her  head  in  an  impatient  negative ; 
Charley,  always  a  good  deal  of  a  nuisance  because  of  his 
headlong  disconnected  excitability,  had  become  her  sorest 
trial  in  that  isolation.  He  persisted  in  his  signaling 
until  she  resignedly  put  aside  her  book,  yawned  for 
Sophy's  benefit  and  said,  "  I'm  going  to  stretch  my 
legs." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  say  such  vulgar  things,"  said 
Sophy,  pausing  in  her  fancywork  to  bend  upon  her 
daughter  a  severe  if  rather  mechanical  expression  of 
disapproval.  Under  the  ministrations  of  Blagden, 
whose  conversation  was  cast  in  the  fashionable  mold 
of  frank  audacity,  her  notions  of  propriety  were  ex 
panding;  but  she  still  clung  to  the  forms  of  strait- 
lacedness. 

Norma,  her  temper  on  edge,  with  difficulty  restrained 
a  sarcasm  about  the  fondness  of  "  nice "  people  for 
nasty  ideas.  She  joined  Charley  and  they  walked  past 
their  dining  and  servants'  car  and  up  the  tracks  of  the 
main  line.  As  soon  as  they  were  beyond  hearing  of  a 
group  of  workmen  replacing  ties,  he  burst  out  excit 
edly  :  "  I  knew  it,  Norma !  There's  a  sure  enough  mys 
tery,  and  a  damn  rotten  one.  Blagden's  a  sweet-scented 
scoundrel,  he  is !  " 

246 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  demanded  impatiently.  "  You're 
always  finding  mare's  nests." 

But  Charley  was  too  agitated  to  resent.  He  hurried 
on :  "I  was  rummaging  among  my  traps  after  lunch, 
and  I  ran  across  these — "  indicating  a  pair  of  field 
glasses  swinging  from  his  shoulder.  "  I  thought  I'd  go 
up  the  hill  and  take  a  look  round.  As  I  was  sweeping 
the  glasses  from  one  point  to  another,  I  accidentally 
focused  on  the  car.  What  do  you  think  I  saw  on  the 
rear  platform?  " 

"Father?" 

"  Miss  Raeburn." 

"  Miss  Raeburn !  "  exclaimed  Norma,  breathless  and 
staring  at  her  brother. 

"  Juliet  Raeburn  —  looking  like  a  ghost  —  but  the 
same  woman.  Norma,  she  is  with  father.  And  they 
shut  mother  and  us  out ! " 

"It  can't  be!" 

"  I  tell  you  it  was,"  insisted  Charley.  "  Do  you 
suppose  /  don't  know  her?  And  I  know  now,  she  was 
the  nurse  that  side-stepped  this  morning." 

"  Charley,  are  you  sure?  " 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for?  " 

Norma  caught  him  by  the  lapel  of  his  Norfolk  jacket. 
"  Let's  go  to  the  hill,"  she  cried.  "  Maybe  she's  still 
there." 

"  What's  the  use?  I  tell  you  I  looked  till  I  was  ab 
solutely  certain  I  wasn't  dreaming." 

"  But  I  wish  to  see  for  myself." 

"  I  say,  you  are  upset !  What  good  would  your  see 
ing  do?  You  never  saw  her." 

Norma  colored  violently,  but  her  brother  did  not 
observe. 

"  This  must  be  cleared  up  at  once,"  fumed  Charley,, 
247 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

emphasizing  with  vicious  cuts  in  the  air  with  his  stick. 
"  She's  got  to  go  away — this  very  evening.  Her  being 
here  is  an  insult  to  mother,  to  us  all.  The  papers  might 
get  hold  of  it.  It's  a  wonder  they  haven't  already.  I 
suppose  she  was  traveling  with  him.  Well,  we'll  shut 
down  on  this  thing  mighty  soon."  And  he  flung  about. 

Norma  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Let  me  think," 
she  said  imperiously. 

"  Think  ?  I've  done  the  thinking.  I'm  going,  bang 
off,  to  Blagden.  I'll  give  him  the  boot,  good  and  proper. 
And  I  must  tell  mother." 

Norma  tightened  her  grip  upon  him.  She  could  not 
yet  see,  through  the  whirl  in  her  agitated  brain,  what 
ought  to  be  done ;  but  Charley's  programme  instinctively 
impressed  her  as  what  ought  not  to  be  done.  "  I  don't 
think  Dr.  Presbury " 

Charley  whistled.  "  By — Jove !  I'd  forgot  him. 
He's  in  it,  too.  We  can  attend  to  his  case  when  he  puts 
in  his  bill." 

"  Charley !  "  cried  Norma  sharply. 

Charley  hung  his  head.  "  Well,"  he  said  defensively, 
"  we  all  know  in  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  father  won't 
pull  through." 

Norma  pressed  her  hands  to  her  breast.  With  a 
suddenness  that  was  stifling  it  came  over  her  how  little 
they  did  care  about  their  father,  how  alien  he  was  to 
them — to  her  even,  now  that  she  had  Joe  and  her  own 
home  and  her  separate  and  new  life.  "  Why,"  she  said 
to  herself,  "  we're  no  longer  a  family.  We've  been  a 
family  only  in  name  and  appearance,  for  years  and 
years." 

"  What  are  you  looking  at  me  like  that  for?  "  blus 
tered  Charley. 

She  became  conscious  that  her  thoughts  were  reveal- 
248 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

ing  in  her  expression.  "  I  wasn't  looking  at  you"  re 
plied  she.  "  I  was  looking  at — at  myself." 

"  Of  course,  I'm  sorry — we  all  are  sorry — and  we'll 
be  frightfully  cut  up " 

"  Don't  let's  talk  of  it — please,"  begged  Norma. 
"  As  to  this — this — other  thing,  I  can't  believe  Dr. 
Presbury  would  have  consented  to  it  unless  there  were 
some  good  reason.  We  must  first  see  him." 

Charley  opened  his  mouth  to  oppose  the  plan  because 
it  was  not  his.  But  its  wisdom  was  so  obvious  that  he 
checked  himself.  "  Let's  go,  straight  off."  He  would 
not  have  confessed  it,  but  he  instinctively  knew  that  his 
impulses  to  action,  like  Sophy's,  like  those  of  most  people 
whom  necessity  does  not  compel,  were  scant  of  breath 
and  short  of  life.  "  Straight  off !  No  delay !  " 

"  Certainly,"  agreed  Norma,  seeing  no  reason  for 
delay.  "  At  once." 

As  they  came  within  sight  of  the  three  cars  deep  in 
the  woods — Murdock's,  the  car  for  the  doctors  and 
nurses,  and  the  car  for  the  other  attendants  and  for 
service — they  halted  as  abruptly  as  if  they  had  been 
challenged  by  a  sentinel.  After  a  moment's  silence, 
Norma  said  in  a  low  tone,  speaking  the  feeling  that 
was  in  her  brother's  mind  also,  "  Perhaps  we'd  better 
turn  back." 

Just  then  Presbury  and  Blagden  appeared,  walking 
slowly  toward  them.  Into  Blagden's  beardless  face  with 
its  ruddy  sensitive  skin  of  the  red-headed  came  a  tell 
tale  look  and  color.  "  Not  I,"  cried  Charley,  and  he 
advanced  boldly.  Norma  could  not  but  keep  pace  with 
him.  Before  he  had  a  chance  to  burst  out  in  tactless 
ness,  she  said  to  Presbury :  "  We'd  like  to  talk  with  you 
alone,  doctor." 

Presbury  halted  with  them;  Blagden,  still  looking 
17  249 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

the  caught  criminal,  continued  his  pacing  up  and 
down,  but  out  of  earshot.  Presbury  beamed  upon  the 
brother  and  sister  through  his  crisp  black  bushiness. 
"  Well,  children— what  now?  " 

Charley  scowled  and,  to  dissipate  his  embarrassment 
and  inward  quakings,  exploded  with  a  bullying,  "  Look 
here,  Presbury,  we  want  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  this 
business  about  the  Raeburn  woman  father's  got  with 
him."  And  he  shook  his  stick  menacingly. 

Presbury  met  his  eyes  calmly.  "  The  only  women 
in  your  father's  party  are  five  nurses.  None  of  them 
is  named  Raeburn." 

"  I  know  her  well,  and  I  saw  her  I  " 

"  There  are  no  women  here  but  my  nurses." 

"  She  was  dressed  like  a  nurse.  It's  no  use  to  try  to 
string  us  further.  We  understand  now  why  mother  and 
we  have  been  kept  from  the  car.  Miss  Raeburn  must 
leave  at  once.  Disgraceful !  " 

Presbury's  face  remained  grave,  but  his  eyes  twin 
kled  as  if  he  found  the  boy  amusing.  "  There  will  be 
no  change  in  the  attendance  on  your  father,"  said  he. 

Charley  was  not  of  the  wise  who  never  join  issue 
until  they  are  prepared  for  every  possible  event.  Pres^ 
bury's  "  impudence "  took  him  wholly  by  surprise. 
While  he  was  swelling  his  chest  and  rearing  his  head 
and  casting  about  for  the  reply  that  would  crush,  Norma 
interfered  with  a  gentle,  but  positive,  "  We  feel,  doctor, 
that  we  are  entitled  to  an  explanation.  That  is  all.  I 
think  you  yourself  will  admit  it." 

Presbury's  manner  changed  to  courteous  attention 
as  he  shifted  his  eyes  from  the  flushed  arrogant  boy  to 
the  sweet  face  of  his  sister.  "  I  have  explained,"  said  he. 

Charley  shook  his  stick  in  the  air.  "  Come !  Come !  " 
he  cried.  "  It's  no  use  to  tell  us  any  more  lies." 

250 


'CHARLEY'S   FIELD   GLASSES 

Presbury  ignored  him ;  Norma  frowned  at  him.  "  Be 
still,"  she  said  sharply,  "  and  stop  making  silly  passes 
with  that  stick."  Then  to  Presbury:  "Please  don't 
think  we've  come  meddling  in  your  affairs.  But  Charley 
has  seen.  He  is  positive.  If  trouble  is  to  be  averted, 
don't  you  think  you  had  better  be  frank  ?  " 

Presbury  debated.  "  You  are  right,"  he  answered 
her  at  length.  "  But  really  there  is  little  to  tell.  I 
know  of  no  Miss  Raeburn.  One  of  your  father's  nurses 
is  a  Miss  Ray." 

"  I  knew  it !  "  exclaimed  Charley.     "  That's  she !  " 

Presbury  proceeded  as  if  there  had  been  no  interrup 
tion.  "  She  is  indispensable.  If  he  is  to  pull  through, 
she  must  remain  with  him.  There  has  been  no  deception 
as  to  his  condition.  He  is  practically  unconscious — and 
has  been,  except  when  he  was  delirious.  She  watches 
over  him  night  and  day.  She  does  for  him  eagerly  the 
services  the  lowest  menials  shrink  from  and  neglect. 
As  soon  as  he  is  out  of  danger  or — "  Dr.  Presbury 
paused;  Norma  trembled,  and  her  brother  lowered  his 
angry  eyes.  The  doctor  ended  in  a  lower  tone,  "  She 
will  then  go  at  once." 

Tears  were  in  Norma's  eyes.  "  She  will  then  go  at 
once."  Norma  felt  it  was  disloyal,  immoral,  but  she 
could  not  crush  down  sympathy  for  this  woman  who 
would  have  to  "  go  at  once."  She  recalled  Juliet  Rae 
burn  as  she  had  seen  her  in  New  York — a  generous, 
high-minded  woman,  if  ever  there  was  one — and  so  beau 
tiful  in  her  strength  of  self-reliance.  What  a  sacri 
fice! 

The  silence  was  broken  by  Presbury.  "  Has  your 
brother  told — anyone  else  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  she,  blushing  deeply. 

"  Not  yet,"  muttered  Charley,  with  sullen  obstinacy. 


OLD  WIVES  FOB   'NEW 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  advise,"  continued  Pres- 
bury,  "  don't  tell  your  mother.  If  you  do,  one  of  two 
things  will  happen:  Either  she  will  stay  on,  with  her 
unhappiness  greatly  increased,  or  she  will  leave,  making 
an  unnecessary  and  painful  scandal." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  cried  the  young  man,  moving  threat 
eningly  toward  Presbury,  who  had  half  turned  his  back 
on  him.  "  There  is  another — the  real  alternative.  That 
woman  will  leave." 

"  She  will  not  leave,"  said  Presbury,  and  his  voice 
had  the  hardness  of  inflexible  purpose. 

"  I  say  she  shall.  Norma  and  I  will  not  protect  her. 
Her  presence  is  an  insult  to  my  mother,  to  us.  She  must 
be  exposed  and  driven  out." 

"  She  probably  cares  little  whether  she  is  exposed 
or  not,"  said  the  doctor,  and  his  expression  was  strange 
ly  unlike  his  usual  cynical  incredulity.  "  I  fancy,  if  she 
had  been  that  sort,  she'd  not  have  come." 

Norma  began  to  see  the  situation  from  all  sides ;  but 
Charley  burst  out  afresh :  "  And  you'd  let  her  stay  on 
here,  insulting  my  mother,  when  you  admit  she  is  a — a 
low  character ! " 

Again  Presbury  turned  his  attention  to  the  boy. 
"  I  did  not  admit  she  was  a  low  character,  young 
man,"  said  he,  his  voice  even,  his  eyes  ominous.  "  The 
reverse." 

"  I  shall  telegraph  to  New  York  at  once  for  other 
physicians.  As  soon  as  they  come  you  will  consider 
your  service  here  at  an  end." 

Presbury  returned  to  Norma.  It  was  apparent  that 
the  last  grains  of  his  patience  were  fast  running  out. 
"  Any  physician,"  said  he,  coldly  polite,  "  would  do 
as  I  am  doing,  Mrs.  Degarmo.  You'd  better  use 
what  influence  you  may  have  with  this  boy  to  prevent 

252 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD   GLASSES 

a  nasty  scandal.  But,  nothing  any  of  you  do  or  try 
to  do  will  change  the  present  surroundings  of  your 
father." 

"  Come  on !  "  cried  Charley  to  Norma.  "  We'll  con 
sult  mother,  and  get  physicians  with  a  sense  of  decency. 
This  fellow  is  evidently  in  that  woman's  pay." 

Norma  swifter  than  thought  threw  herself  between 
her  brother  and  Presbury.  The  hand,  powerful  as  a 
butcher's,  that  reached  out  for  the  boy,  fell  upon  her, 
upon  her  shoulder,  wrenching  it,  crushing  the  flesh, 
branding  into  it  marks  that  remained  for  weeks.  But 
she  hardly  noted  the  pain,  so  fascinated  was  she  by  the 
transformation  of  that  usually  imperturbable,  lightly 
satiric  face  into  gorgonish  fury.  Every  one  of  those 
crisp  black  hairs  of  eyebrow  and  beard  seemed  to  twist 
and  hiss  its  separate  venom.  Norma  had  always  ridi 
culed  beards ;  she  saw  now  why  nature  had  given  them 
to  men.  But  while  she  was  reveling  in  the  tempest 
across  whose  path  she  had  thrown  herself,  it  vanished. 
"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Degarmo,"  exclaimed  Pres 
bury  contritely.  "  I  beg  your  pardon."  And  he  was 
once  more  the  suave,  lightly  derisive  mocker  at  human 
ity's  twin  besetting  terrors,  life  and  death. 

Before  Norma  could  reply  Charley  pushed  her 
roughly  aside.  "  I  repeat  what  I  said.  You  are  in  that 
woman's  pay."  And  he  glared  into  Presbury's  face. 

But  the  doctor  was  now  in  control  of  himself.  "  As 
you  please,"  replied  he.  "  Don't  let  him  make  a  mess, 
if  you  can  help  it,  Mrs.  Degarmo.  I  fear  I  hurt  your 
shoulder." 

"  It  is  nothing — nothing,  I  assure  you,"  said  Norma, 
though  the  pain  was  now  shooting  through  her  arm 
and  chest. 

Presbury  lifted  his  hat  to  her,  walked  away. 
253 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I  really  ought  to  have  taken  one  good  crack  at 
him,"  growled  Charley.  "  Did  he  hurt  you?  " 

Norma  laughed  sarcastically.  "  What  a  disgusting 
exhibition  you  are!  If  I  were  a  man  and  had  made 
such  a  fool  of  myself,  I'd  sneak  away  until  it  was  for 
gotten." 

But  Charley  was  too  well  content  with  himself  to  be 
shamed  into  reasonableness.  "  Come  along,"  said  he. 
"  We  must  get  busy." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  "  demanded  she,  the 
pain  goading  her  to  rage  against  his  blundering  folly. 

"  Why — that's  settled.    We're  going  to  mother." 

"  But  father —    The  doctor  may  be  right." 

"  And  what  if  he  is  right?  We  must  defend  our 
mother." 

They  heard  quick  steps  behind  them,  halted  and 
turned.  It  was  Blagden.  Charley  flamed  out  again. 
He  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  figure  he  had  cut 
before  Presbury.  The  opportunity  to  rehabilitate  him 
self  by  thoroughly  bullying  a  dependent  was  not  to  be 
neglected.  "  What  do  you  mean  ? "  he  demanded. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  conspiring  to  insult  my 
mother?" 

In  other  circumstances  Blagden  would  have  resented 
the  insolence  of  the  tone  and  of  the  question,  for  he  was 
courtier  only  where  he  gave  his  respect,  and  for  Charley 
Murdock  he  had  no  respect.  As  it  was,  he  showed  his 
feelings  in  his  expression  alone.  "  Go  slow  there, 
Charley,"  he  said  friendlily.  "  I've  been  doing  what  I 
thought  was  for  the  best,  what  I  know  is  for  the  best. 
Presbury's  right.  If  she's  sent  away,  it's  all  up 
with  your  father.  I  refused  to  be  responsible  for  his 
death." 

Charley  sneered.  "  I  suppose  you've  been  fetch-and- 
254 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

carry  between  him  and  her  so  long  that  you've  lost  all 
moral  sense." 

With  her  father's  own  eyes,  so  terrible  in  wrath, 
Norma  faced  her  brother.  "  Haven't  you  any  brains 
at  all  ?  "  cried  she.  "  You  are  insufferable !  I  agree 
with  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Blagden." 

"Oh,  you  do!"  jeered  Charley.  "Well,  if  father 
gets  well,  which  he  won't,  you'd  be  right  in  it  on  his 
money,  wouldn't  you?  But  you'll  slip  up,  my  dear  sis 
ter.  And  you'll  wish  you'd  consulted  your  pride." 

"  Pride !  "  Norma  concentrated  her  full  capacity  of 
scorn  upon  her  tone.  "  So,  that  is  your  idea  of  pride, 
is  it  ?  "  She  remembered  Blagden,  and  was  ashamed  that 
an  outsider  should  see  this  ugly  dance  of  family  skele 
tons.  "  Leave  us,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Blagden,"  said  she, 
politely  enough  but  with  a  distinct  suggestion  of  the 
tone  for  employees. 

Blagden,  whose  pride  was  simply  the  conventional 
vanity,  was  in  too  great  an  inward  turmoil  even  to  note 
such  a  subtle  detail.  "  Certainly,  Mrs.  Degarmo,"  re 
plied  he,  eagerly  conciliatory.  Then  to  both  of  them: 
"  I  hope  you  will  spare  Mrs.  Murdock.  I  assure  you, 
no  matter  what  doctors  you  get " 

"Clear  out!"  ordered  Charley  roughly.  "And 
don't  you  worry  about  our  affairs.  The  doctors  we 
get  will  do  what  they're  told  to  do  by  whoever's  going 
to  pay  them.  You  ought  to  know  that — you  who  are 
doing  a  man's  dirtiest  work  for  pay." 

"  I  apologize  for  him,"  cried  Norma,  though  the  sec 
retary's  fury  did  not  alarm  her  as  had  Presbury's. 
"  Mr.  Blagden,  I  know  you've  been  insulted  by  this 
miserable  brother  of  mine,  but  I  beg  you,  for  the 
sake  of  father  and  mother,  don't  punish  him  as  he  de 
serves." 

255 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

"  Punish  me !  I  say,  that's  good,"  laughed  Charley, 
who  was  Blagden's  equal,  perhaps  his  superior  in  physi 
cal  strength. 

Norma  wheeled  on  him.  "  So !  "  she  cried.  "  You 
insult  men  whom  you  feel  confident  you  need  not  be  afraid 
of.  You  wretched  coward !  " 

Blagden  took  advantage  of  their  absorption  in  their 
quarrel  precipitately  to  leave  them.  "  Now,"  she  contin 
ued,  "  we'll  go  to  mother  if  you  insist  on  making  a  mess 
and  a  scandal.  I  knew  you  hadn't  much  brains,  but  I 
never  dreamed  you  were  a  coward.  I  knew  you  were  a 
byword  for  lack  of  tact,  but  I  didn't  think  you'd  carry 
it  to  the  point  of  murder." 

"  Murder  or  no  murder,  I  say  that  woman  and  her 
crowd  of  low  creatures  have  got  to  be  swept  out  of 
mother's  neighborhood.  I've  heard  women  haven't  any 
real  sense  of  decency.  It  must  be  true.  But  Fve  got 
it,  enough  for  the  whole  family.  And,  by  God,  this 
Raeburn  woman  has  got  to  leave." 

Norma  was  at  such  a  pitch  of  exasperation  that  she 
did  not  care  what  happened.  "  Come  on ! "  cried  she. 
"  I  wash  my  hands  of  you." 

But,  behind  his  violent  gestures  and  language, 
Charley's  spasm  of  outraged  virtue  was  subsiding  even 
more  swiftly  than  it  had  risen.  He  had  inherited  his 
mother's  aversion  to  trouble,  as  well  as  her  fitful  and 
capricious  temper.  Also,  he  had  her  fundamental  lack 
of  self-confidence,  aggravated  by  the  fact  that  never  in 
his  life  had  he  had  to  act  wholly  on  his  own  responsibil 
ity,  with  the  certainty  that  the  consequences  could  not  be 
shifted ;  there  had  always  been  his  mother  to  excuse  and 
defend  him,  his  father  to  protect  him  and  settle  the  bills. 
He  was  much  relieved,  when  they  reached  the  car,  to  find 
that  his  mother  was  taking  a  nap. 

256 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

"  I'll  not  wake  her,"  said  he,  in  his  surly  voice  the 
note  of  weakness  that  was  familiar  to  his  sister. 

"  As  you  please,"  retorted  she  curtly,  moving  away 
from  him. 

"  Hold  on.  Where  are  you  going?  Let's  take  a 
walk,  and  talk  things  over  for  half  an  hour." 

"  I've  got  something  else  to  do." 

"  You  know  I'm  always  open  to  reason,"  pleaded 
Charley  weakly.  He  was  irritated  with  himself  for  hav 
ing  gone  so  far.  Now,  he  had  got  himself  into  the  plight 
that  is  the  frequent  lot  of  those  who  mistake  for  will  the 
absence  of  will  shown  in  bluster,  obstinacy,  and  ill-tem 
per. 

"  Make  a  scandal  and  kill  your  father,  if  you  like," 
said  Norma,  sure  that  he  would  do  nothing.  And  she 
retired  to  her  compartment,  to  have  Katy  rub  embroca 
tion  into  her  aching  shoulder. 

Charley,  after  hanging  uncertainly  about  the  steps 
for  a  few  minutes,  heard  his  mother's  voice,  and  precipi 
tately  struck  into  the  woods.  Blagden  was  watching 
from  afar.  As  the  "  young  idiot  "  disappeared  he  has 
tened  forward  and  entered  the  car.  Sophy,  just  emerged 
from  her  nap,  greeted  him  with  her  usual  affectionate 
friendliness.  He  saw  at  once  that  she  knew  nothing, 
that  he  was  therefore  free  to  adopt  the  most  satisfactory 
of  the  several  alternatives  he  had  carefully  thought  out. 
"  You  haven't  seen  Charley  ?  "  he  began. 

"  Not  since  lunch,"  replied  she.  As  she  had  come 
to  look  upon  him  as  almost  of  the  family,  she  was  not 
concealing  her  satisfaction  over  a  new  teagown,  but  was 
admiring  it — or  rather,  herself  in  it — in  one  of  the  many 
mirrors  wherewith  the  car  was  decorated.  She  was  vain 
of  her  throat,  which  looked  best  in  dresses  open  at  the 
neck;  collars  pushed  it  up  into  a  too  heavy  chin.  The 

257 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

particular  feature  of  the  new  teagown  was  the  arrange 
ment  of  the  lace  at  the  neck. 

"  That's  a  charming  gown,"  said  Blagden,  whose 
chief  topic  with  Sophy  was  dress  and  style — and  that 
the  talk  was  interesting  and  improving  was  shown  by 
the  fact  that  Sophy  had  not  been  so  alive  or  so  particu 
lar  about  herself  in  years,  not  since  before  Norma  was 
born.  Blagden,  with  the  serious  air  of  a  connoisseur  on 
a  jury,  walked  round  her,  viewing  the  garment  from  all 
points.  "  Most  becoming,"  was  his  verdict.  "  But 
then,"  he  added  in  the  same  judicial,  impartial  manner, 
"  you've  been  looking  wonderfully  well  of  late.  So  it's 
not  altogether  the  teagown." 

If  he  had  spoken  what  his  eyes  said  as  they  lingered 
upon  her  soft  white  throat,  she  would  have  been  insulted, 
ashamed,  furious  at  him.  But  she  delighted  in  his  look, 
with  not  the  least  sense  of  violated  modesty.  "  Thank 
you,"  said  she.  "  I'm  afraid  it's  too  youthful." 

He  laughed.  "  It  always  seems  ridiculous  to  me 
that  you  have  grown  children." 

Sophy  was  rosy  with  pleasure.  Without  in  the 
least  realizing  it — she  would  not  have  permitted  herself 
to  realize  a  thing  so  subversive  of  the  rigidities  she  had 
always  preached  and  had  never  been  seriously  tempted 
to  stretch — she  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  looking 
forward  to  Blagden's  compliments  of  eye  and  tone  as 
the  most  agreeable  events  in  her  "  melancholy  life." 
A  greater  factor  in  her  improved  appearance  than  the 
air  and  the  outdoor  life,  greater  even  than  the  fact 
that  she  was  now  having  things  to  think  about,  and  so 
was  no  longer  revolving  round  her  three  meals  a  day, 
as  anyone  will  who  lets  himself  sink  to  the  life  she  led 
at  Saint  X — the  greatest  factor  of  all  in  her  improve 
ment  was  the  stimulus  of  Blagden,  really  interested  in 

253 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

her,  able  to  talk  to  her  so  that  she  would  listen  and 
could  understand. 

"  How  is  everything  at  the  car !  "  she  asked.  They 
rarely  spoke  of  Murdock  except  as  "  the  car." 

Blagden  became  grave.  "  That  recalls  me,"  said 
he.  "  I'm  glad  you  haven't  seen  the  boy.  He  has  made 
a  discovery,  and  I  feared  he'd  tell  you  arid,  by  taking 
you  unprepared,  hurry  you  into  action  you'd  after 
wards  repent." 

Sophy  turned  crossly  from  the  mirror.  "  What 
now?  "  she  inquired. 

"  My  dear  friend,  it's  a  matter  I've  been  doing 
everything  in  my  power  to  keep  from  you.  God  knows, 
you've  enough  to  make  your  heart  heavy  and  sad." 

"  I  suppose  he's  worse." 

"  On  the  contrary,  slightly  better — though  there 
is  still  no  hope — only  the  shadow  of  hope." 

"  Then  whatever  can  it  be?  " 

"  Nothing  but  the  expected  in  the  circumstances. 
.  .  .  Miss  Raeburn  is  here." 

Sophy  straightened ;  her  eyes  flashed,  her  nostrils 
dilated.  Blagden  saw  that  he  was  indeed  in  for  a 
stretch  of  extremely  delicate  driving. 

"  Charley  saw  her,"  he  pursued,  ignoring  the  signs 
that  she  was  about  to  flare  up,  though  he  was  inwardly 
trembling.  "  She  forced  her  way  in — frightful  bad 
taste,  wasn't  it?  Of  course,  they  don't  dare  remove 
her.  The  slightest  irritation  would  kill  him  instantly. 
Charley,  thinking  of  you  and  forgetting  everything 
else,  including  the  danger  of  a  terrible  and  utterly  un 
necessary  newspaper  scandal,  is  all  for  ordering  her 
and  the  doctors  off  forthwith.  But  I  know  you  don't 
want  that.  It's  a  very  difficult  situation,  isn't  it?" 

Sophy  had  developed  a  great  respect  for  Blagden, 
259 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

as  well  as  liking ;  she  was  anxious  to  maintain  his  good 
opinion  of  her,  and  also  she  thought  his  judgment  in 
fallible  in  all  matters  of  "  the  world."  Still,  the  news 
he  brought  set  her  primal  passions  to  boiling.  She 
did  not  want  to  be  Murdock's  nurse;  but  that  woman 
at  the  post  rightfully  her  own  under  every  law  of  God 
and  man,  that  woman  watching  over  him  while  she 
herself  was  not  permitted  even  to  see  him —  "  I'll  not 
endure  it !  "  she  cried,  in  a  suffocating  voice.  "  Was 
ever  wife  and  mother  so  outraged !  " 

"  You  are  right,  Mrs.  Murdock,"  said  Blagden, 
deeply  moved.  "  It  has  made  me  angry  every  time  I've 
thought  of  it.  Never  was  there  such  a  situation !  Dr. 
Presbury,  who  is  the  only  other  person  in  the  secret, 
is  as  indignant  as  I  am.  But —  She  would  not  go 
quietly,  even  if  they  dared  try  to  get  rid  of  her.  Shall 
she  be  driven  away  with  great  scandal,  and  with  the  in 
evitable  result  that  he  will  die?  Would  anything  jus 
tify  us  in  deliberately  killing  him?  " 

"  But  he  knows  I'm  here !  " 

"  Probably  not.  His  mind  is  very  vague.  He's 
really  not  conscious." 

"  Then  he  wouldn't  know  if  she  left." 

Blagden's  greenish  eyes  watched  her  jealously  as  he 
said  with  a  certain  zest,  "  He  has  but  one  idea — that 
she  is  there  and  must  not  leave  him.  If  you  send  her 
away,  he  will  burst  into  a  rage — and  die.  When  I 
insisted  that  you  be  told,  Dr.  Presbury  said,  '  You  are 
proposing  murder.'  He  says  he  himself  will  throw  up 
the  case  and  leave  if  she  goes.  You  can  see  for  your 
self,  that  alone  would  mean  a  huge  scandal.  Mrs.  Mur 
dock  " — solemnly — "  on  my  honor,  I  believe  the  doc 
tors  are  right.  It  would  kill  him." 

"I  don't  care!  I  don't  care!"  shrilled  Sophy. 
260 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD   GL'ASSES 

"  He's  nothing  to  me !  Hasn't  he  dragged  me  through 
the  depths  of  humiliation?  I  will  not  be  outraged  by 
that  creature's  presence.  She  shall  go,  and  go  at 
once !  "  And  she  blazed  upon  Blagden.  "  Do  you 
hear?" 

He  lost  his  nerve;  but  his  judgment  did  not  desert 
him  in  that  moment  of  peril  to  all  his  plans.  "  What 
ever  you  say  shall  be  done,"  replied  he  humbly.  "  For 
give  me,  I  must  speak  my  mind — my  dear  friend." 
And  his  judgment  enabled  him  to  pluck  up  courage 
to  say,  "  If  he  dies,  the  whole  country  will  have  it  that 
you,  though  about  to  divorce  him,  made  a  scene  at  his 
bedside  that  caused  his  death." 

The  ice  of  this  drenched  Sophy's  wrath.  She  had 
forgotten  having  led  Blagden  to  believe  her  the  ag 
gressor  in  the  divorce  suit. 

"  If  he  gets  well,"  he  went  on,  feeling  his  way  a 
little  less  timidly,  "  you  know  how  relentless  he  is.  He 
will  justify  himself  in  any  tyrannical  course;  he  will 
say  to  himself  that  you  demonstrated  your  utter  in 
difference  to  him." 

Sophy  listened  limply,  encouraged  him  with  a  de 
spairing  roll  of  the  eyes. 

"  You  can  drive  her  away,  my  friend,"  said  he  more 
strongly,  after  a  painful  pause.  "  But  any  punish 
ment  you  inflict  on  her  will  be  mild  beside  what  you 
bring  upon  yourself.  And  if  he  should  die,  leaving  a 
will  unfavorable  to  you —  Would  not  your  having 
hastened  his  death  strengthen  her  case?  Of  course, 
if  he  lives —  But  you  can  imagine  better  than  I  what 
would  happen  in  that  case." 

Blagden  still  felt  he  might  as  hopefully  be  arguing 
with  a  runaway  "horse.  He  was  expert  enough  at  hu 
man  nature  to  know  that  the  real  motives,  even  of  good 


OLD  WIVES  FOB  NEW. 

and  worthy  people,  are  not  always  those  so  gallantly 
displayed  on  dress  parade;  but  he  had  not  yet  had  the 
fullness  of  experience  that  finally  teaches  how  decisive 
the  motives  of  prudence  always  are,  if  they  get  a  hear 
ing.  When  he  finished  she  turned,  dropped  into  a 
chair.  "What  shall  I  do?"  asked  she  helplessly. 
"  You've  had  experience.  Advise  me." 

Blagden,  astounded  by  victory  as  unexpected  as 
complete,  could  not  immediately  frame  an  answer. 

"  And  Charley  and  Norma  know,  too,"  she  went  on 
dolefully.  "  What  will  they  think  of  me  if  I  submit 
to  it?" 

This  gave  Blagden  an  inspiration.  "  Mrs.  De- 
garmo  has  been  trying  to  persuade  Charley  not  to  tell 
you.  It  may  be  she  has  succeeded.  If  so,  you  need 
do  nothing  but  hold  your  peace.  When  the  crisis  is 
past  you  can  act  quietly  and  with  dignity.  .  .  .  Per 
haps — you  will — will  honor  me  by  trusting  me  to  act 
for  you  ?  " 

"  Yes — yes — thank  you !  "  she  exclaimed,  impul 
sively  giving  him  her  beautiful  hand  which  he  took 
and  ventured  to  press  with  gratitude  almost  reverent. 
Then,  "  But  suppose  Charley  tells  me,"  she  said  in  dis 
may.  "  He  probably  will.  He  never  could  keep  any 
thing,  and  he  hasn't  any  sense.  If  he  had  " — angrily 
— "  he'd  have  kept  what  he  saw  to  himself,  instead  of 
blabbing  it  and  getting  ready  to  worry  me  with  it. 
Whatever  should  I  have  done  without  you,  Mr.  Blag 
den?  It  seems  as  if  God  must  have  sent  you  to  help 
me  through  this  dreadful  experience."  And  again  that 
slender,  delicately  proportioned  hand  of  hers  touched 
his. 

Blagden,  proud  and  masterful,  spoke  out  in  a  ring 
ing  voice :  "  If  Charley  does  tell  you,  order  him  to  be- 

262 


CHARLEY'S   FIELD    GLASSES 

have  himself  and  not  draw  the  family  into  a  scandal. 
You  will  easily  control  him,  with  Mrs.  Degarmo  to 
help  you." 

Such  angry  feeling  as  Sophy  had  left  now  took 
the  form  of  resentment  against  "  that  meddling  boy." 
However,  with  Blagden's  eye  warningly  and  encourag 
ingly  upon  her  when  Charley  came,  she  contrived  to 
keep  her  countenance.  He  gave  Blagden  a  frightened 
look.  But  seeing  how  quietly  the  conversation  wan 
dered  among  indifferent  subjects,  he  became  reassured; 
Sophy's  uneasiness  was  completely  covered  from  his 
unobserving  eyes  by  pretended  diligence  at  her  center 
piece.  With  the  tea  came  Norma.  She  looked  inquir 
ingly  at  her  brother  who,  after  a  furtive  glance  at  his 
mother  and  Blagden,  shook  his  head.  "  I've  changed 
my  mind,"  he  said  in  an  undertone. 

She  patted  his  shoulder.  "  I'm  glad,"  replied  she. 
And  when  Blagden  left,  she  went  with  him  to  the  plat 
form  to  say,  "  Charley  has  come  to  his  senses." 

"  Good !     Now  all  will  go  smoothly." 

"  I  hope  so."  Norma  gave  a  dubious,  anxious  sigh. 
"  I've  been  praying  for  the  end  of  the  crisis  in  father's 
illness.  Now  I'd  do  anything  to  put  it  off." 

Blagden,  his  generous,  kindly  instincts  roused  by 
her  unhappiness,  said  in  a  tone  that  could  not  but 
reassure,  "  Trust  me,  Mrs.  Degarmo.  All  will  go 
smoothly." 

Norma  thanked  him  with  a  look.  And  for  the  mo 
ment  she  did  feel  encouraged.  "  What  a  good  fellow 
Blagden  is !  "  thought  she.  "  No  wonder  we're  always 
congratulating  ourselves  on  our  luck  in  having  him 
here.  If  anything  happens  to  father,  Joe  must  look 
out  for  him." 


XVIII 

SOPHY    AND    JULIET 

EARLY  the  following  morning  Charley  was  awak 
ened  by  a  knock  at  his  door.  "  What  is  it  ?  Who  is 
it  ?  "  he  mumbled. 

His  mother's  voice  answered :  "  I  want  you  to  bring 
Dr.  Presbury  right  away.  I  can't  stand  it.  That 
woman  has  got  to  go !  It  isn't  decent." 

Charley  opened  the  door,  stared  stupidly  at  his 
mother's  sallow  face  and  bloodshot  eyes.  "  Who  told 
you  ?  "  he  demanded.  Then,  "  It  was  Blagden — the 
damned  hound ! " 

"  Never  mind  who  told  me.  And  Mr.  Blagden  is 
a  gentleman.  But  I  can't  endure  it.  I've  not  closed 
my  eyes.  I  could  hardly  wait  for  day.  I'll  die  myself 
if  that  woman  stays." 

Charley,  in  gaudily  striped  silk  pyjamas,  sat  on  the 
edge  of  his  bed  and  stared  gloomily  at  his  bare  feet. 
"  What  if  she  refuses,"  he  finally  suggested,  "  and  the 
doctor  backs  her  up?  You  don't  want  to  go  off  at 
half-cock,  mother.  That  was  a  rotten  dinner  we  had 
last  night.  It  kept  me  awake  till  all  hours,  and  7  feel 
like  shooting  up  the  place  myself  this  morning." 

This  humble,  even  vulgar  explanation  of  her  night 
of  anguish  and  her  morning  of  high  moral  resolve  set 
Sophy  to  exploding  afresh.  She  released  the  dress 
ing  gown  she  was  holding  together  over  her  bosom 

264 


SOPHY  AND   JULIET 


and  wrung  her  hands  wildly.  "  I  won't  listen — I 
won't !  Do  you  want  me  to  die  ?  All  night  I  lay  feel 
ing  her  gloat  over  me."  Her  words  were  borne  out 
by  her  hysterical  dishevelment — corsetless,  hair  this 
way  and  that,  eyes  rolling  insanely,  voice  shrill  and  out 
of  control.  Her  very  nose,  usually  a  thing  of  beauty, 
no  matter  how  her  other  features  looked,  seemed  to 
have  lost  its  symmetry.  "  Will  you  go  for  Dr.  Pres- 
bury,"  she  all  but  screamed,  "  or  do  I  have  to  send 
somebody  else?  " 

"  I'll  go,"  said  he.  "  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  take 
my  bath  and  get  into  my  clothes." 

"  Be  quick ! "  And  she  drew  his  door  to  and  went 
away. 

He  dressed  hurriedly;  but  instead  of  setting  out, 
he  went  to  Norma,  who  was  in  their  dining  car,  gaz 
ing  moodily  into  her  coffee.  "  Now,  mother's  on  the 
rampage !  "  cried  he,  seating  himself  but  making  no 
move  toward  eating.  "  That  red-head  did  tell  her. 
And  she  had  an  attack  of  indigestion  last  night — it 
seems  to  have  hit  you,  too.  Anyhow — she  says  Miss 
Raeburn's  got  to  go." 

Norma  drew  a  huge  breath  of  relief.  "  Well,  at 
least  something  will  happen.  It  may  be  wicked  to  feel 
so,  but  I  don't  much  care  what."  As  Charley  had  said, 
she  was  showing  that  she  had  passed  a  bad  night. 

"  You  women  have  no  self-control  at  all,  have 
you? "  said  Charley.  And  now  he  began  to  eat. 
66  Mother  is  saying  she  can't  live,  if  that  woman's  here. 
She  wants  me  to  dash  off  for  Presbury." 

"  Why  don't  you  bring  him  ?  Let's  have  it  over 
with." 

"  There's  no  need  to  rush.  Besides,  I  find  I'm  hun 
gry.  The  muffins  look  fine  this  morning.  It'll  take 
18  £65 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

her  a  long  time  to  dress,  judging  by  the  state  she  was 
in  when  I  saw  her.  And  she  wouldn't  let  anybody  see 
her  till  she's  dressed.  Mother's  getting  mighty  par 
ticular  about  her  appearance  lately.  .  .  .  Well,  I'm 
glad  to  see  it.  I  like  this  Philadelphia  butter  better 
than  that  last.  It's  not  so  salt.  Just  jiggle  that  but 
ton,  won't  you?  I  want  some  fresh  coffee,  and  this 
milk's  cold  as  charity." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  would !  You  know,  I  rowed  him  yes 
terday."  And  Charley,  feeling  that  the  load  of  re 
sponsibility  had  been  lifted  from  him,  fell  more  ener 
getically  upon  the  breakfast — fruit  and  oatmeal,  a 
chop,  several  muffins,  two  great  bowls  of  coffee.  Norma 
did  not  interrupt,  did  not  try  to  hurry  him.  Not  until 
he  finished  his  coffee  and  lighted  a  cigarette  did  she 
move  toward  a  start. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him,  sis  ? "  he 
asked  as  they  set  out  through  the  bright,  buoyant, 
early  morning  air. 

"  Nothing — beyond  telling  him  mother  wants  to 
see  him  about — about  it." 

Arrived  at  the  other  settlement,  they  found  Pres- 
bury  and  Blagden  breakfasting  in  the  doctor's  car. 
When  Norma  explained  their  early  visit,  Blagden  grew 
white.  Presbury  simply  said,  "  Um — m !  "  and  smoked 
on  at  his  long,  golden-brown  cigar.  A  moment's  si 
lence,  and  Norma,  who  was  looking  out  of  the  window, 
rose  with  an  exclamation  of  terror  so  acute  that  the 
three  men  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"  Mother !  "  she  gasped,  her  eyes  wide  and  her  hand 
tight  upon  her  heart. 

And  she  darted  out  and  down  the  steps,  just  in 
time  to  see  her  mother  wave  aside  the  guard  at  the 

266 


SOPHY   AND   JULIET 


farther  and  rear  platform  of  Murdock's  car  and  as 
cend.  Before  she  could  start  in  pursuit,  Presbury 
caught  her  sharply  by  the  arm.  "  No,"  commanded 
he.  "  Let  me  go." 

He  strode  along  the  narrow  path  worn  in  the  grass, 
parallel  to  the  three  cars.  The  others,  watching  him 
breathlessly,  were  astonished  to  see  him  pause  at  the 
rear  steps,  glance  up  at  the  platform,  draw  quickly 
back,  then  beckon  the  stupefied  guard  to  come  away. 
When  he  rejoined  them  with  the  guard  beside  him,  he 
said  in  a  casual  tone,  for  the  guard's  benefit,  "  Mrs. 
Murdock  and  Miss  Ray  are  talking  together  on  the 
platform.  I'm  sending  the  guard  here  to  the  station, 
to  find  out  whether  the  express  will  be  on  time.  I'm 
expecting  some  decent  chicken  and  a  few  duck.  Isn't 
the  stuff  round  here  wretched?  But  then,  the  country's 
always  a  horrible  place  for  feeding." 

As  the  guard  drew  away  from  them,  Blagden  ex 
claimed  in  great  agitation,  "  But,  doctor,  is  it  wise 
to " 

The  doctor  cut  him  off  -with  a  gesture.  "  Miss 
Ray,"  said  he  tranquilly,  "  will  not  permit  anyone  to 
disturb  the  patient." 

"  But  mother  may — "  began  Norma,  and  stopped 
because  to  have  gone  on  would  have  been  to  bring  too 
near  the  surface  thoughts  about  her  mother  of  which 
she  was  ashamed. 

"  Let  the  two  women  talk  it  out,"  pursued  the  doc 
tor.  "  Trust  Miss  Ray  to  handle  the  situation.  Let's 
go  back  to  breakfast.  I  don't  enjoy  smoking  in  the  open 
air."  And  he  waved  them  »p  the  steps. 


In  Murdock's  car  the  windows  to  the  south  were  kept 
open,  day  and  night,  to  admit  the  cool,  healing  air  of  the 

267 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

forests ;  the  windows  to  the  north  were  closed  and  cur 
tained  because  the  path  ran  along  that  side.  Juliet  Rae- 
burn,  standing  between  his  couch  and  the  closed  middle 
windows — double  windows  of  thick  plate  glass  heavily 
curtained — heard  Mrs.  Murdock  coming  along  the  path. 
Those  nights  and  days  of  almost  sleepless  vigil  had 
sharpened  all  her  senses ;  the  faintest  sound  made  a  dis 
tinct  impression  on  her.  As  she  watched,  she  had  been 
haunted  by  the  two  fears,  fear  of  two  intruders — the 
one  who  could  take  him  from  her,  the  one  who  could  drive 
her  from  him.  The  sound  that  penetrated  to  her  from 
the  path  that  morning  would  not  have  been  heard 
through  those  barriers  by  a  normal  human  hearing,  how 
ever  acute ;  yet  she  not  only  heard  it,  but  heard  that  it 
was  hurried,  that  it  was  feminine,  that  it  was  made  by 
none  of  those  who  habitually  came  to  the  car. 

An  instant  of  suffocating  tightening  at  the  heart; 
then  her  nerves  responded  to  her  will,  and  she  went 
hastily  to  meet  the  intruder.  As  she  went,  she  closed 
and  curtained  the  three  successive  doors  between  the 
platform  and  the  room  where  he  lay  in  that  baffling 
stupor,  in  which  he  yet  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  her — 
how  else  explain  the  fact  that  he  became  restless  if  she 
left  him  more  than  a  few  minutes,  and  quieted  the  mo 
ment  she  returned?  Sophy  had  just  reached  the  plat 
form  when  Juliet  came  out  of  the  car.  It  was  an  obser 
vation  platform,  wide  and  broad;  but  the  two  women 
were  face  to  face  and  very  near.  Juliet  had  the  advan 
tage  because  Sophy  was  completely  out  of  breath  from 
the  haste  of  her  coming  and  from  the  violence  of  the 
passions  which  had  been  roused  from  lethargy  and  had 
goaded  her  to  act  for  herself. 

"  You  came  to  inquire  about  Mr.  Murdock  ?  "  said 
Juliet.  She  saw  the  guard  and  Dr.  Presbury  at  the 

268 


SOPHY   AND   JULIET 


steps,  looking  up  at  her;  she  calmly  motioned  them 
away.  "  He  is  a  little  better  this  morning,  they  think," 
she  went  on.  "  But  he's  still  apparently  unconscious." 

Sophy,  who  had  been  speechless  from  exertion,  was 
now  speechless  from  astonishment.  She  had  no  very  defi 
nite  conception  of  the  appearance  of  the  woman  who 
had  "  stolen  my  husband,"  beyond  a  general  idea  that 
she  dressed  so  that  even  men  observed  and  admired,  that 
she  was  extremely  beautiful  and  had  a  figure  of  devilish 
allurement.  She  knew  this  woman  was  the  one  she 
sought;  yet  where  was  the  beauty  of  dress,  of  face,  of 
figure  ?  Here  was  a  homely  woman,  emaciated,  gaunt  of 
features,  and  ghastly  pale,  and  dressed  in  an  ill-fitting 
nurse's  costume  that  made  her  angular  and  hollow- 
chested.  Not  a  trace  of  coquetry ;  a  wan,  worn  creature, 
with  no  beauty  save  possibly  a  pair  of  great  dark  gray 
eyes  that  looked  at  her  sweetly  and  dauntlessly.  Sophy 
was  confounded. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Murdock's  wife,"  was  all  she  could  think 
to  say. 

Miss  Raeburn  bent  her  head  in  a  slight  bow.  "  I 
knew,"  said  she.  "  I  am  one  of  the  nurses." 

"Which  one?" 

A  tiny  spot  of  color  glowed  in  each  of  Juliet's  hollow 
cheeks  and  vanished.  "  I  am  the  one  called  Miss  Ray." 

In  those  honest  direct  eyes,  in  that  gentle  voice  there 
was  no  incitement  to  wrath.  Sophy  Murdock  had  a 
good  heart,  and  persistent  ill  health  was  no  longer  poi 
soning  it ;  she  could  not  resist  the  appeal  to  sympathy, 
to  pity  even,  which  this  woman's  appearance  made  for 
her.  The  things  she  had  come  to  say  would  not  issue. 
She  trembled  with  embarrassment  before  Juliet  standing 
silent,  courteous.  From  the  bottom  of  her  heart  she 
wished  she  had  not  come.  "  I'm  too  soft,"  she  said  to 

269 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

herself.  Yet,  now  that  she  was  there,  how  go  without 
speaking?  She  gave  Juliet  a  look  of  appeal.  "Don't 
you  think,"  said  she,  with  painful  embarrassment,  "  that 
it's  about  time  his  own  family  took  charge  of  him?  " 

"  It  is  such  a  difficult  case,"  replied  Juliet,  "  that  I 
believe  the  doctors  are  right.  He  lies  there,  hardly  mov 
ing,  occasionally  opening  his  eyes,  never  speaking.  It 
is  very  strange  and  terrible.  You  would  like  to  see  him  ? 
If  you  will  make  no  sound,  I'll  violate  orders  and  take 
you  in." 

Sophy  shrank.  "  No — no,"  she  muttered.  "  You 
are  very  kind,  but — that  is — no." 

"  It  would  only  make  you  feel  more  unhappy." 

Sophy  was  desperate.  She  made  a  great  effort  and 
said  crossly,  "  You  have  no  right  to  be  here." 

"  Does  it  make  any  difference  who  is  here  now,  so 
long  as  it  is  some  one  with  strength  to  do  the  work  ?  " 

Sophy's  gaze,  after  vainly  trying  to  center  upon 
Juliet's  eyes,  wandered  again.  "  I  don't  see  how  you 
can  stay  any  longer,"  she  said,  in  a  helpless,  pleading 
way.  "  It  isn't  proper.  I  can't  .  .  .  can't  allow  it." 

"  It  seems  as  strange  to  me  as  to  you  that  I  am 
here,"  Juliet  replied.  "  I  would  go  if  it  weren't  that  the 
doctor  says  any  change  during  this  crisis  would  sure 
ly — "  She  did  not  finish,  did  not  need  to  finish. 

"Is  it  so?"  asked  Sophy. 

"  It  is,"  replied  Juliet.  And  her  eyes  and  her  tone 
made  Sophy  feel  the  black  intruder  seated  beside  Mur- 
dock's  couch,  waiting  with  hideous  patience  for  the  least 
relaxing  of  effort. 

"  Oh ! "  she  murmured.  The  color  was  out  of  her 
face,  the  anger  out  of  her  heart.  "  I've  been  thinking 
they  were  deceiving  me,"  she  added  apologetically. 

"  I  know  you  feel  as  I  do — that  we  mustn't  consider, 
270 


SOPHY  AND   JULIET 


ourselves,  only  him."  Juliet,  wan,  haggard,  looked  at 
Sophy  with  eyes  death  itself  could  not  have  made  more 
moving.  "  Don't  you  think  I'd  better  stay  until  we 
know?  " 

Sophy  paled,  reddened ;  the  tears  welled  up.  "  I 
can't  be  the  cause  of  any  harm  to  him.  I  can't — I 
can't !  " 

And  without  looking  at  Juliet  again,  she  turned,  de 
scended,  departed.  Juliet  stood  without  motion,  her 
gaze  fixed  on  the  point  at  which  his  wife  had  disap 
peared.  She  drew  a  long,  long  breath,  opened  the  outer 
door  of  the  car,  stepped  within,  fell  upon  her  knees.  With 
the  sobs  shaking  her  wasted  frame,  she  repeated  softly, 
again  and  again :  "  Thank  God !  Thank  God !  " 

Norma  and  Charley  kept  away  from  their  mother 
until  lunch.  When  they,  much  embarrassed,  faced  her, 
even  more  so,  she  said  in  a  queer  defiant  tone,  "  I've  seen 
her  and  we've  come  to  an  understanding."  No  one 
pressed  her  for  an  explanation — nor  did  she  press  her 
inmost  self  where  this  strange  decision  had  been  reached. 
She  felt  that  her  flareout  was  probably  due  to  the  ignoble 
cause  Charley  had  assigned.  As  for  letting  Juliet  stay, 
while  it  was  absurdly  not  to  say  immorally  out  of  ac 
cord  with  conventionality,  it  was  somehow  in  perfect 
accord  with  conscience.  And  she  pried  into  herself  no 
further.  There  was,  however,  a  cause  for  the  content 
of  conscience,  a  highly  interesting  cause,  one  that  would 
have  scandalized  her  had  she  known  it — another  in 
stance  of  the  advantage  of  not  knowing  what  is  going 
on  in  one's  own  mind  and  heart. 

Blagden,  bent  on  having  Sophy  as  near  to  his  physi 
cal  ideal  as  he  saw  she  could  easily  be,  had  been  beguil 
ing  her  into  long  and  ever  longer  walks ;  and  his  prac 
tical  interest  had  been  stimulating  her  to  take  care  of 

271 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

herself,  to  permit  and  even  to  urge  Katy  to  make  her 
toilet  elaborately.  No  longer  was  she  slovenly  in  the 
morning  and  dressed-up  looking  in  the  afternoon,  and  at 
all  times  suggestive  of  bulk  and  semifluidity.  Her  hair 
was  washed  and  kept  in  condition  by  a  preparation  sup 
plied  by  Blagden.  Her  hands  were  as  presentable  as 
her  feet,  Katy  having  got  some  simple  instructions  in 
manicuring  from  Norma's  Celeste.  She  had  a  figure 
once  more,  large  but  definite ;  and  her  contour  was  begin 
ning  to  reappear  from  its  long  hiding  within  heavy] 
cheeks.  Even  in  the  case  of  a  woman  with  no  one  really; 
generous  gift  from  nature  an  amazingly  small  amount 
of  taste  and  intelligent  persistence  will  produce  marvel 
ous  results.  Where  the  woman  has  fine  eyes,  good  teeth, 
a  well-formed  nose,  a  notable  skin,  and  hands  and  feet 
that  are  the  envy  of  every  feminine  beholder,  it  takes  a 
great  deal  of  corpulence  and  dowdiness  to  extinguish1 
her  title  to  beauty;  and  a  very  slight  improvement  in 
form,  personal  habits,  and  dress  goes  far  toward  re 
habilitating  her. 

Without  being  in  the  least  conscious  of  it,  or  of  the 
reason  for  it,  Sophy  had  been  taking  on  the  alert  mental 
attitude  of  the  unsettled  woman,  as  distinguished  from 
that  of  her  who  regards  her  fate  as  determined  for  life. 
She  talked  and  listened  more ;  she  thought  less  lazily  and 
less  disconnectedly ;  she  took  increasing  pleasure  in  the 
company  of  Mr.  Blagden — "  such  a  nice  young  man,  so 
well  educated,  so  well  bred,  such  an  interesting  way  of 
saying  things."  The  dog  wags  its  tail,  the  baby  crows 
and  chortles,  at  whomever  it  relies  upon  for  food;  and 
we  are  only  natural  when  we  soften  more  and  more 
toward  whoever  supplies  our  hearts,  our  vanities,  our 
souls,  with  the  ambrosia  of  consideration  and  the  nectar 
of  compliment.  In  those  years  when  Sophy  had  been 

272 


SOPHY   AND   JULIET 


abandoned  to  the  fate  her  indolence  invited,  made  all  but 
inevitable,  the  fairest  part  of  her  nature  had  wilted  and 
withered — her  gentleness,  her  sweetness,  her  desire  to 
please.  Now,  its  response  was  as  prompt,  as  eager,  as  the 
earth's  to  spring's  returning  sun. 

And  now  that  she  had  seen  "  the  Raeburn  woman," 
she  lost  all  jealousy.  "  I  can't  imagine  what  a  man  could 
find  in  a  poor,  peaked,  pinched  creature  like  that,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  I  don't  wonder  Mr.  Blagden  made 
light  of  it."  She  was  "  spiritual-minded  "  and  prided 
herself  upon  it,  and  denounced  physical  attraction  be 
tween  the  sexes  as  coarse  and  low.  But  the  most  spir 
itually  minded  will,  in  their  unguarded  moments,  revert 
to  the  plain,  every  day  human  standards  of  judgment. 

As  she,  divested  of  pose,  was  enjoying  these  com 
forting  thoughts  about  his  charmer's  lack  of  charm,  she 
was  before  a  mirror,  admiring  the  figure  given  her  by  a 
new  corset  with  ingenious  front  and  hip  lacings.  "  Mr. 
Blagden  will  like  this.  He  notices  everything."  Her 
maid  had  been  begging  her  for  more  than  a  year  to  get 
this  corset,  but  she  had  refused,  because  she  thought  it 
a  waste  of  money.  Now,  vanities,  even  the  uncomfortable 
ones  like  Agnes  corsets,  no  longer  seemed  sinful  extrava 
gance.  "  He's  welcome  to  her,"  she  thought,  continuing 
her  musings  about  Juliet.  "  It's  no  wonder  he  couldn't 
be  content  with  his  family — he,  with  such  poor  taste  as 
that.  She  probably  looks  a  little  bit  better  when  she's 
dressed  and  not  so  worn  out ;  but  nobody  need  tell  me  she 
could  ever  be  what  any  sane  person  would  call  attrac 
tive." 

She  was  not  analytic — and  while  not  to  be  analytic 
prevents  growth  and  progress,  it  produces  the  tempo 
rary  joys  of  optimism,  and  is  the  ideal  state  for  those 
who  wish  peace  of  mind,  wish  to  believe  that  the  profes- 

273 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

sions  of  themselves  and  others  are  their  practices  also. 
She  was  not  analytic ;  hence  it  did  not  occur  to  her  that 
for  her  spirits,  for  her  complete  content  with  the  idea 
of  divorce,  for  her  allayed  jealousy,  there  might  be  a 
cause  as  out  of  place  among  her  Puritan-faced  princi 
ples  for  the  married  woman  as  Cupid  in  a  convent. 

"  He's  welcome  to  her,"  said  she ;  and,  innocent  of 
the  subtle  significance  of  the  one  idea  upon  the  very 
heels  of  the  other,  added :  "  I  hope  Mr.  Blagden  will  look 
in  before  lunch.  I  feel  just  like  a  walk."  Wholly  unsus 
picious  also  was  she  of  her  succeeding  reflection :  "  If  it 
was  as  pleasant  to  walk  out  home  as  it  is  here,  I'd  not 
mind  taking  old  Schulze's  prescription." 


XIX 


ANOTHER  week — the  fifth.  The  family's  anxiety, 
quite  exhausted,  had  fallen  asleep ;  conventional  affection 
had  worn  threadbare  the  garment  of  appearances ;  wife 
and  children  were,  as  Sophy  piously  put  it,  "  prepared 
to  accept  with  resignation  whatever  it  may  please  God 
to  send  " — which  always  means  that  death  would  be  a 
welcome  relief,  though  no  one  is  so  barbarous  as  to  say, 
and  few  are  so  barbarous  as  to  admit  even  in  thought, 
that  this  is  their  meaning.  Norma,  out  of  conceit  with 
the  sensitiveness — "  not  to  say  lack  of  trust  " — which 
had  led  her  to  forbid  Joe  to  come  where  he  might  see 
too  far  behind  the  scenes,  was  beginning  to  be  irritated 
and  a  little  nervous  because  he  remained  so  long  respect 
ful  of  her  prohibition.  As  for  Charley,  he  was  openly 
showing  his  impatience  and  boredom.  "  If  this  had  to 
be,"  he  growled,  "  at  least  it  might  have  happened  some 
where  near  a  place  where  a  fellow  might  somehow  amuse 
himself."  Sophy  alone  was  tranquil — a  blessing  she  at 
tributed  to  the  ministrations  of  a  Providence  which  ap 
parently  gave  most  of  its  time  and  thought  exclusively 
to  her  and  her  comfort.  Never  had  days  passed  so 
quickly,  so  delightfully  as  these,  most  of  whose  waking 
hours  found  her  and  Blagden  together,  she  the  most 
attentive  of  listeners,  he  educating  and  stimulating  her 
in  the  subtlest,  most  entertaining  way  imaginable.  The 

275 


OLD  WIVES   FOR   NEW 

kind  of  education  Sophy  needed  to  modernize  her  was 
precisely  the  kind  his  mind  and  tastes  fitted  him  to  im 
part.  If  it  was  a  rare  opportunity  for  her — this  oppor 
tunity  to  be  roused  and  rejuvenated  by  a  person  near 
enough  to  her  own  mentality  to  be  understandable  and 
sympathetic — it  was  no  less  a  rare  opportunity  for  him. 
He  had  always  been  an  accumulator  of  every  kind  of 
knowledge  useful  to  the  fashionable  and  the  luxurious 
— how  to  live,  how  to  dress,  how  to  hold  on  to  youthful 
appearance  and  to  stave  off  age.  Only  from  a  sense  of 
family  dignity  was  he  man  of  affairs,  instead  of  beauty 
doctor  or  major-domo  or  proprietor  of  fashionable  shop 
or  restaurant.  Aside  from  her  physical  attractiveness 
to  him,  Sophy  had  him  enlisted  for  her,  heart  and  mind, 
because  he  saw  ever  larger  and  larger  possibilities  of  re 
creating  her,  of  making  her  a  new  being  he  could  proud 
ly  look  upon  as  his  own  handiwork.  In  a  world  where 
the  vanity  of  creation  is  the  most  seductive  of  all  the 
vanities,  what  greater  charm  could  one  human  being 
have  for  another? 

The  thick  fog  over  Murdock's  mind  had  been  sway 
ing  uncertainly  for  nearly  a  week.  On  the  thirty-sev 
enth  day  Presbury  saw  that  it  was  not  settling  back,  but 
was  slowly  lifting  to  drift  away.  The  change  was 
slight,  but  to  his  experience  decisive;  the  crisis  had 
passed,  life  and  love  had  won.  Presbury  knew  it  was 
a  question  not  of  how  many  but  of  how  few  hours 
before  that  intelligence  would  swing  clear  of  mist, 
would  see  its  surroundings.  But  he  did  not  hint  it 
to  Juliet. 

That  afternoon  he  called  her  out  to  the  platform  and 
in  the  tone  that  asks  an  explanation  said,  "  You've  sent 
away  your  trunk." 

276 


"SHE   SEEMED    QUITE   CALM" 

"  I  saw  the  change,"  replied  she.  "  He  will  get  well. 
I  may  have  to  go  at  any  moment." 

"  You'll  stay  as  long  as  you  like." 

"  You  don't  understand,"  said  she.  "  He  mustn't 
know  I've  been  here." 

"  They — "  He  glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  other 
settlement—  "  They'll  tell  him." 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  she  reflectively.  "  If  so — at 
least  I'll  have  done  my  best.  I  want  you  to  promise 
me." 

Presbury  shook  his  head.  "  I'll  have  to  tell  him.  It 
isn't  fair  to  him — or  to  you." 

She  gazed  with  unseeing  eyes  into  that  fresh,  joyous 
splendor  of  limitless  foliage,  of  hills  and  ravines  and  far 
purple  mountains.  As  he  watched  her,  the  full  force 
of  the  heart-wringing  contrast,  between  the  woman  who 
had  come  there  five  weeks  before  and  she  who  was  about 
to  leave,  swept  over  him  for  the  first  time.  "  If  I  did 
my  duty,"  said  he,  "  I'd  order  you  to  bed  for  a  fort 
night.  You've  all  but  given  your  life  for  him." 

She  smiled.  "  Fm  stronger  than  you  think.  A  week 
or  so  up  North  and  I'll  be  all  right." 

"  And  you  are  going  away !  It's  frightful — fright 
ful,"  he  cried  impulsively.  "  You  must  have  cared  for 
him  before,  to  brave  insult  and  disgrace  to  come  to  him. 
But  now,  he's  to  you  what  the  child  she's  brought  into 
'  the  world  is  to  its  mother." 

"  More,"  was  all  she  said ;  but  the  tone  of  it  brought 
the  tears  into  his  eyes. 

"  Yes— more,"  he  answered.  "  Tell  him?  Why,  I'll 
tell  him  as  soon  as  he  has  the  strength  to  hear  it." 

She  turned  her  mysterious  brilliant  eyes  upon  him. 
"  No,  you  will  not  tell  him,"  answered  she.  "  You  mis 
understand  why  I  don't  wish  him  to  know.  In  some 

277 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

circumstances — if  he  were  free — I'd  be  glad.  But — " 
A  little  color  came  into  her  cheeks  as  she  hesitated — 
"  You  compel  me  to  explain.  I  don't  know  much  about 
his  life — his  life  at  home.  But  I'm  afraid  if  he  knew 
I  had  come  up  here  he'd  be  tempted  to — to " 

"  To  divorce  her.    Why  not?  " 

"  That's  what  I'd  have  said,  before  I  learned  what 
this  experience  has  taught  me.  I  used  to  be  relentless 
and — I  didn't  understand  pain  because  I'd  never  felt 
it.  Now — after  what  she  did  for  me — for  him  and 
me " 

Presbury  understood,  and  her  changed  expression 
showed  it. 

"  You  see  he  mustn't  know  I  was  here.  You  prom 
ise?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Presbury  reluctantly,  after  a  pause 
during  which  he  searched  in  vain  for  an  argument  to 
shake  her  resolution.  He  saw  that,  being  the  woman 
she  was,  she  could  not  but  go.  "  Yes,  if  you  insist." 

"  I  do  insist." 

"  Yes — I  promise." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said.  "  I  know  I  can  rely  on 
you."  And  she  returned  to  Murdock's  bedside. 

Early  the  following  morning,  Murdock  without  un 
closing  his  eyes  said  in  a  weak  but  rational  tone — plainly 
rational  because  querulous :  "  Where  am  I  ?  I've  been 
trying  to  puzzle  it  out  and  can't." 

Juliet,  at  the  head  of  the  couch,  rose  hastily,  and 
without  making  the  least  sound  withdrew  out  of  his 
view. 

"  Anybody  there  ?  "  he  went  on,  voice  a  little  stronger 
and  crosser. 

Juliet's  hands  were  clasped  tightly  to  her  bosom. 
Slowly  she  unclasped  them ;  slowly  she  stretched  out  one 

278 


"SHE   SEEMED   QUITE   CALM'9 

hand — so  thin,  so  transparent — a  hand  that  told  the 
whole  story  of  those  days  and  nights  of  struggle  with 
death  for  the  life  of  the  man  she  loved.  Slowly  the  hand 
advanced — slowly  and  fearfully — until  it  hovered  above 
his  pillow — until  it  almost  touched  his  hair.  Then  she 
drew  it  back  and  the  two  hands  met  at  her  lips  to  stifle 
a  sob — and  she  went.  She  had  snatched  him  from  death ; 
now  life  had  snatched  him  from  her.  Her  head  swam, 
her  courage  fled,  and  she  leaned,  sick  and  trembling, 
against  the  wall  of  the  passageway.  She  must  go,  with" 
out  a  word  from  him — without  a  kiss  or  even  a  hand 
clasp — must  go  away — alone — alone 

She  heard  him  calling.  She  composed  herself,  went 
to  the  platform.  Miss  Thomas  was  there.  She  sent  her 
in,  hurried  away  to  the  next  car.  When,  a  few  minutes 
later,  Presbury  returned  from  his  early  stroll  in  the 
woods  he  learned  that  she  had  gone.  "  She  found  she 
might  just  make  the  express,"  explained  Martin.  "  So 
she  left  her  good-bys  with  me." 

"  Gone?  "  echoed  Presbury,  dumfounded.  He  glanced 
at  his  watch. 

"  Oh,  she  was  all  right,"  Martin  assured  him. 
"  Really  she  seemed  quite  calm  and " 

"  These  shallow  fools ! "  muttered  Presbury,  dash 
ing  off  toward  the  station.  As  he  neared  the  clearing  he 
saw  the  train ;  but  before  he  reached  it,  it  was  under  way. 
At  one  of  the  windows  flying  by  he  saw  her  profile.  Its 
expression  he  never  forgot. 


XX 

SOME    STRANGE    NEW    YORK    ADVENTURES 

As  he  entered  Murdock's  car  he  heard  in  Murdock's 
voice:  "  What  the  devil !  What  does  this  mean?  " 

"  Better  I  see — much  better,"  said  Presbury.  With 
a  gesture  he  sent  Miss  Thomas  away. 

"  Where  is  the  other  nurse?  "  demanded  Murdock 
peremptorily,  "  I  want  her — at  once." 

"  Which  one?  "  asked  Presbury.     "  There  are  four." 

"  The  one  that's  been  here  all  the  time." 

"  They've  all  been  here  in  turn." 

Murdock  sunk  into  sullen  silence.  Presently  he 
feebly  turned  his  head  and  said,  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  one  of  the  doctors — Presbury." 

Another  silence ;  then,  "  Where  am  I  ?  " 

Presbury  explained  in  detail,  Murdock  listening 
without  comment.  "  And,"  he  ended,  "  you  can  see  your 
wife  and  daughter  and  son  to-day." 

Murdock's  frown  had  deepened  to  a  scowl.  "  Who 
has  been  nursing  me  ?  " 

"  Four  nurses — five  until  this  morning.  One  gave 
out  and  had  to  go." 

66  Who  was  the  one  that  was  here  almost  all  the  time  ? 
Oh,  I  knew — I  don't  know  how,  but  I  knew." 

"  I  think  the  nursing  was  about  evenly  divided.  Per 
haps  Miss  Ray,  who  left  this  morning,  did  somewhat 
more  than  the  others." 

280 


SOME  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

"  Ray !  .  .  .  Was  her  first  name —  What  was  her 
first  name?  " 

"  Juliet." 

Murdock  seemed  to  be  reflecting.  After  a  while 
Presbury  heard  him  mutter :  "  Yes,  I  may  have  heard 
them  call  her  Juliet."  Then  to  the  doctor:  "Have  I 
been  out  of  my  head  ?  " 

"  Much  of  the  time,"  replied  Presbury.  "  The  rest 
of  the  time  in  a  sort  of  stupor."  As  the  nurse  reentered, 
he  rose,  saying :  "  Here  is  Miss  Thomas.  What  time 
will  you  see  your  wife?  " 

Murdock  turned  his  head,  scanned  for  the  second 
time  the  bright,  pretty  face  of  Miss  Thomas,  sighed, 
muttered,  closed  his  eyes  wearily.  His  brows  again  gath 
ered  in  a  heavy  frown. 

"  When  will  you  see  your  wife?  "  Presbury  repeated. 

"  How  do  I  know?  "  replied  Murdock  sullenly.  "  Is 
it  evening  or  morning?  " 

"  Morning." 

"  Bring  my — my  family  whenever  you  like.  But 
they  mustn't  stay  long.  I'm  very  tired." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Presbury.  "  And  no  demonstra 
tions  ! " 

A  smile,  grimly  satirical,  showed  through  the  beard 
Murdock  had  grown  during  his  illness.  He  slept  or 
seemed  to  sleep.  Two  hours  later  Sophy,  followed  by 
Norma,  Charley,  and  Blagden,  came  in.  They  seated 
themselves  in  awkward  silence.  The  sick  man's  glance 
went  quickly  from  face  to  face,  returned  to  the  cool, 
dark-green  foliage  that  almost  brushed  the  car.  There 
seemed  to  be  nothing  to  say.  He  broke  the  painful  si 
lence  with  a  question  to  Blagden —  "  How's  everything 
in  business  ?  But,  I  suppose  you'd  not  tell  me,  if  things 
had  gone  wrong." 

19  281 


'OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW, 

"  Of  course  I  shouldn't,"  replied  Blagden.  "  But 
it  so  happens  that  we've  had  a  quiet  summer.  Your 
stocks  slumped  on  the  news  of  your  accident,  but  they've 
about  recovered." 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  given  you  all  a  bad  summer,"  he 
said,  addressing  himself  to  Norma. 

"  Indeed  you  have,"  replied  she  cheerfully.  "  But, 
thank  heaven,  it's  over." 

"And  Joe?" 

"  He  wanted  to  come,  but  I  wouldn't  have  it.  We'll 
take  you  with  us  to  Bar  Harbor  as  soon  as  you're  able 
to  travel.  You'll  have  the  sea  as  well  as  the  mountains 
there." 

Murdock  made  no  reply.  He  lay  listless,  frown 
ing.  Dr.  Presbury  appeared  in  the  doorway.  This 
was  the  signal  agreed  upon.  Blagden  rose.  "  Our 
orders  are  to  stay  only  a  minute  to-day,"  he  ex 
plained. 

"  That's  right,"  said  Murdock,  too  weak  to  hide  his 
relief.  "  Perhaps  one  of  you — say  Norma — will  come 
again  this  afternoon.  But  I'm  not  going  to  allow  you  to 
bore  yourselves  with  me.  When  can  I  send  them  all 
away,  Presbury  ?  " 

"  We'll  see  about  that." 

"  Didn't  you  say  I  was  out  of  danger?  "  insisted 
Murdock,  irritable  at  once. 

"  Certainly  you  are.    But " 

"  Appearances,  I  suppose  you  mean.  Well,  appear 
ances  be  damned.  It'll  retard  my  recovery  if  I've  got 
it  on  my  mind  that  a  lot  of  people  are  waiting  impa 
tiently  about." 

"We'll  talk  of  this  later.     You  must  rest  now." 

The  family  and  Presbury  withdrew.  Presbury  was 
about  to  accompany  them  to  their  car  when  the  nurse 


SOME   STRANGE   'ADVENTURES 

called  him.     "  Mr.  Murdock  wishes  to  speak  to  you," 
said  she. 

As  he  entered,  Murdock  said,  "  Are  we  alone  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Now,  tell  me  the  truth  about  the  nurses — about 
that  nurse." 

"  I  have  told  you  all  there  is  to  tell." 

"  I  wish  to  see  the  nurse  you  say  went  this  morning." 

"  She  took  the  nine  o'clock  train.  She's  well  on  the 
way  to  Canada  to  visit  relatives  and  rest.  I  advanced 
her  some  money — in  fact,  all  that  was  due  her.  I  felt 
her  faithfulness  had  earned  her  a  vacation.  Besides,  she 
was  really  tired  out.  That's  the  way  it  always  is. 
There's  sure  to  be  one  that's  more  sympathetic  to  the 
patient,  and  the  brunt  of  the  burden  falls  on  her." 

A  pause,  then  Murdock  said,  "  I  do  not  believe  you." 

"  As  you  please,"  replied  Presbury,  as  if  humoring 
the  fantastic  notions  of  an  invalid. 

"  Did  Mrs.  Murdock  send  her  away?  " 

"  She  did  not." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you.  Mrs.  Murdock  sent  her 
away." 

"  All  the  nurses  were  here  when  your  family  arrived. 
All  are  here  now,  except  Miss  Ray.  She  left  only  this 
morning,  left  of  her  own  accord." 

"  On  your  honor?  " 

"  On  my  honor." 

"  Of  her  own  accord  ?  " 

"Certainly.     Why  not?  " 

Murdock's  face  had  the  puzzled,  baffled  expression 
again.  "  At  any  rate,  you've  taken  a  weight  off  my 
mind,"  said  he.  "  Whatever  the  truth  is,  there  was — 
nothing  disagreeable." 

"  My  dear  sir " 

283 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Murdock  made  a  gesture  of  dismissal  of  the  subject. 
"  I'll  see  Norma  this  afternoon.  They  must  all  go  to 
morrow.  I  need  no  more  coddling.  Tell  Blagden  to 
order  an  extra  operator  here  and  a  clear  wire  to  New 
York  or  Chicago  by  day  after  to-morrow.  And — a 
clean  shave  this  very  day." 

"  The  shave — yes.  But  no  business  for  a  week,"  said 
the  doctor.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  drug  you  ?  " 

"  You'll  have  to,  if  this  machine  inside  my  head 
isn't  to  get  away  with  me.  Was  Miss  Ray  ill  ?  " 

"  Only  tired.  She'll  be  back  on  duty  in  two  weeks. 
She's  going  to  graduate  in  medicine  and  enter  the  prac 
tice.  If  you  want  to,  you  might  give  her  something 
extra.  She's  worked  hard  here — and  she  needs  the  money. 
But  do  as  you  like.  I  congratulated  myself  when  I 
found  I  could  get  her  for  this  case.  Though,  the  others 
have  done  very  well,  too — very  well  indeed." 

As  he  talked  Murdock  watched  him  with  angry  sus 
picion.  But  Presbury  was  not  the  man  to  fail  in  a  lie 
when  he  determined  to  tell  it  convincingly ;  and  he  had 
decided  it  was  best  for  all  concerned,  especially  for 
Miss  Raeburn,  that  he  should  keep  to  the  spirit  as  well 
as  to  the  letter  of  his  promise.  Murdock  gave  a  sound 
between  sigh  and  groan;  Presbury  knew  he  had  won. 

"  Yes,  I've  been  out  of  my  head,"  said  Murdock,  to 
himself  rather  than  to  the  doctor.  Then,  with  a  com 
plete  change  of  tone:  "  Tell  Blagden  to  send  for  Berke 
ley.  I  must  see  him.  Also,  I  want  Fullerton — a  lawyer 
in  our  New  York  offices." 

"  All  right,"  growled  Presbury,  going.  "  Have  your 
way.  Have  your  way." 

When  Murdock  was  asleep  he  returned  and  gave  him 
an  injection  that  would  stupefy  him  for  twenty-four 
hours.  "  They're  bad  business,  these  hypodermics,"  he 

284 


SOME  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

muttered,  as  he  withdrew  the  empty  needle,  "  but  he  has 
got  to  be  quiet  a  week  longer." 

As  soon  as  Presbury  permitted  him  to  have  pos 
session  of  his  faculties,  he  again  insisted  that  his 
family  should  leave.  "  Humor  him,"  Presbury  advised 
them ;  and  they  took  the  advice  with  alacrity  and 
cheerfulness  unconcealed.  Sophy  had  found  herself  acci 
dentally  alone  with  him  for  a  few  minutes  and,  while  he 
tactfully  saved  her  and  himself  from  embarrassment  by 
pretending  sleep,  she  dreaded  a  repetition  of  the  distress 
ing  experience.  Charley  had  never  before  experienced 
the  intolerable  burden  of  week  after  week  of  fine  weather 
in  inactive  idleness ;  he  was  as  fidgety  as  a  sleepy  child 
that  is  trying  to  keep  itself  awake,  and  as  exasperating. 
Norma,  though  really  the  most  impatient,  and  the  most 
justifiably  impatient,  to  be  gone,  was  the  only  one  of 
the  three  to  feel  the  tragedy  of  this  fizzling  fiasco  of 
an  end  to  their  family  life.  She  saw  that  the  last  of  the 
flesh  and  blood  ties  had  been  cut,  and  she  felt  the  wound 
— or,  rather,  to  be  exact,  she  felt  distress  of  conscience 
because  she  felt  no  distress  of  heart.  She  realized  there 
was  no  longer  any  sympathy  whatever  between  Murdock 
and  the  rest  of  them,  even  between  him  and  herself.  She 
could  understand  his  conduct  toward  her  mother,  but 
she  could  not  forgive  it.  In  theory  she  held  her  Joe  hers 
only  so  long  as  she  could  hold  him ;  but  in  her  heart  she 
felt  he  was  hers  for  all  time,  rightfully  hers,  regardless 
of  any  change  in  her  which  might  set  him  to  thinking 
of  wandering.  The  happily  married  woman,  vaguely  yet 
persistently  conscious  of — and  in  dread  of — the  fleeting 
nature  of  feminine  charms,  resents  any  infraction  of  the 
marriage  tie  almost  as  fiercely  as  a  widow  who  in  vain 
longs  and  seeks  to  remarry.  Norma  had  raised  between 

285 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

herself  and  her  father  a  barrier  as  effective  as  the  bar 
rier  which  his  secret  plans  and  desires  forced  him  to  raise 
against  his  whole  family. 

When  Berkeley  came,  Norma  hastened  back  to  Joe, 
Charley  went  to  New  Hampshire  to  visit  school  friends, 
and  Sophy,  accompanied  by  Blagden  whom  Murdock 
sent  on  business,  departed  for  New  York  to  join  Mrs. 
Berkeley  and  Mrs.  Fred  Hastings  at  the  Holland  House. 
Blagden  had  been  talking  to  her  almost  every  day  about 
how  diligent  and  resourceful  and  successful  the  fashion 
able  women  of  the  East  were  in  prolonging  youth  and 
beauty.  He  was  unable  to  satisfy  her  speedily  roused 
curiosity  by  going  into  practical  details ;  he  knew  little 
beyond  the  results — women  of  thirty,  thirty-five  and 
forty,  of  forty-five  even  and  beyond,  with  the  charms  of 
their  younger  days  intact  and  in  not  a  few  instances  en 
hanced.  But  he  had  heard  enough  of  the  methods  to 
clear  Sophy's  mind  of  the  popular  notion  that  this  pro 
longed  youth  was  due  to  superficial  artifices,  to  paints 
and  powders,  false  hair  and  pads.  He  knew,  and  he 
assured  her,  that  there  were  in  New  York,  in  London, 
Paris,  Vienna,  able  physicians  and  surgeons  who  devoted 
themselves  to  correcting  nature's  blunders,  to  repairing 
the  ravages  of  self-indulgence,  to  renovating  and  restor 
ing  the  bodies  of  their  patients  as  thoroughly,  as  radi 
cally  as  an  old  house  is  made  over  into  a  new.  When 
he  first  began  to  talk — of  course,  taking  care  to  make 
himself  apparently  impersonal — she  listened  with  amused 
incredulity.  But  after  her  discovery  of  Juliet,  and  her 
resignation  to  the  impossible  situation,  she  stealthily 
read  the  advertisements  of  the  "  beauty  fakirs  "  in  the 
New  York  Sunday  newspapers.  Blagden  had  told  her 
of  these  advertisements,  had  warned  her  they  were  for 
the  most  part  inserted  by  clumsy  or  fraudulent  imitators 

286 


SOME  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

of  the  practitioners  of  a  real  science  and  art  who  did 
not  advertise.  So  she  read  to  learn,  not  where  to  go, 
but  what  to  do,  what  could  be  done. 

It  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  psychology,  that  vanity 
over  a  purely  imaginary  charm  ceases  the  moment  some 
way  of  substituting  the  genuine  for  the  imaginary  is 
discovered.  Sophy  began  to  see  her  defects  with  eyes 
as  sharp  as  an  enemy's,  began  to  analyze  her  physical 
appearance,  to  catalogue  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  to 
survey  just  what  foundation  she  had  upon  which  to 
rebuild  the  impaired  structure  of  her  beauty.  Her  mind 
was  not  capable  of  the  higher  processes  of  thought.  But 
it  was  a  good  average  mind,  perfectly  competent,  when 
awake,  to  deal  with  the  ordinary  routine,  and  endowed 
with  that  shrewdness  which  is  of  more  value  than  intellect 
in  the  practical  petty-retail  business  of  keeping  com 
fortably  alive.  Soon  she  was  viewing  herself  with  far 
less  englamoured  eyes  than  was  Blagden.  He  thought 
her  merely  a  trifle  too  plump  and  pillowy,  not  indeed 
for  his  personal  taste  which  was  all  for  bulk,  but  for 
the  compromise  taste  he  had  made  between  his  own  and 
the  fashionable  fad  of  leanness.  She  saw  that  she  must 
make  many  and  drastic  changes,  if  she  was  to  become  the 
woman  she  felt  she  ought  to  be  and  could  be.  Once  the 
idea  of  improvement,  and  that  for  a  definite  purpose — 
though  she  did  not  disclose  even  to  herself  the  purpose — 
became  firmly  imbedded  in  her  sluggish  but  practical 
mind,  it  flourished  as  sturdily  as  pine  in  sterile  soil. 
Like  all  the  emotions,  vanity,  a  bad  master,  is  a  good 
servant. 

In  the  years  when  Sophy  was  thinking  about  her 
self  with  results  damaging  physically,  mentally,  and 
morally,  she  had  not  the  slightest  sense  of  shyness  or 
of  shame;  but  now  that  her  self-centering  promised  at 

287 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

least  physical  and  mental  improvement,  she  became  self- 
conscious,  secretive,  teased  of  conscience.  She  looked 
forward  to  meeting  her  friends,  Florence  Berkeley  and 
Henrietta  Hastings,  with  no  pleasure ;  how  was  she  to  go 
about  her  programme  without  their  discovering  her  and 
laughing  at  her?  Yet  she  felt  she  must  at  any  cost  have 
some  one  to  back  her  up.  Blagden  she  could  not  trust 
with  secrets  so  peculiar ;  besides,  he  would  not  be  avail 
able  now.  Should  she  confide  in  Florence,  disdainful  of 
physical  vanity  but  discreet  and  reliable  friend?  Should 
she  select  Henrietta,  in  sympathy  with  vanities  of  the 
flesh  but  loose  of  tongue  and  sparing  no  one  in  her  love 
of  ridicule? 

While  she  was  still  debating  into  which  of  these  two 
beds  of  thorns  to  cast  herself,  she  made  an  astonishing 
discovery.  Both  Florence  and  Henrietta  were  in  New 
York,  not  to  shop,  at  least  not  primarily,  but  to  have 
themselves  renovated!  The  greetings  were  hardly  over 
before  they  began  to  talk  of  fat  and  wrinkles,  of  no  hair 
where  hair  should  be,  of  hair  where  no  hair  should  be; 
of  hollows  and  protuberances;  of  the  dangers  in  foods 
and  combinations  of  food  regarded  by  the  inexpert,  even 
by  most  physicians,  as  harmless;  of  the  dire  disasters 
that  lurked  in  candy,  in  soda,  in  all  kinds  of  between- 
meal  eating.  And  presently  it  came  out  that  Florence, 
the  spiritual,  was  arranging  to  be  rid  of  a  mole  in  front 
of  her  left  ear  and  of  certain  menacing  wrinkles,  that 
Henrietta  was  worried  about  the  deepening  hollows  in 
her  cheeks,  and  was  also  trying  to  decide  whether  injec 
tions  of  paraffin  would  really  improve  the  appearance 
of  her  rather  scrawny  hands  and  fill  up  the  holes  between 
the  base  of  her  neck  and  her  collar  bones. 

"  I  am  surprised,  Florence !  "  exclaimed  Sophy. 

"  I'd  be  satisfied  to  let  myself  alone,"  apologized 
288 


SOME   STRANGE  ADFENTURES 

Mrs.  Berkeley,  without,  however,  so  much  as  a  blush  of 
embarrassment,  "  if  it  wasn't  for  the  other  women  of  my 
generation.  I  don't  purpose  to  let  them  stay  young 
while  I  get  old.  You'll  have  to  come  to  it,  Sophy.  It's 
silly  and  it's  vain,  but  we've  got  to  do  as  others  do  or  be 
shelved." 

"  And  you  say  the  man  claims  to  be  able  to  remove 
wrinkles  ?  "  pursued  Sophy,  with  the  air  of  an  incredu 
lous  but  interested  inquirer  into  a  matter  entirely  new 
and  unheard  of.  She  had  no  wrinkles;  she  simply 
wished  to  bring  the  conversation  back  to  the  impor 
tant  subject.  Inevitably,  sooner  or  later,  her  own 
needs  would  be  touched  on,  without  her  having  to  be 
tray  herself. 

"  He  does  it,"  Florence  assured  her.  "  Mrs.  Whit 
ney  sent  three  women  to  him.  I  saw  one  of  them — Mrs. 
Siddons,  of  Chicago.  Do  you  know  her?  " 

"No,"  said  Sophy;  "but  I've  heard  of  her,  of 
course.  Won't  it  be  frightfully  painful?  " 

"  Indeed  it  will.  But  the  pain  lasts  only  a  few  days, 
and  the  new  skin  will  last  a  year  or  two.  Mrs.  Whit 
ney  has  hers  done  in  Paris  every  two  years,  and 
look  at  her — over  fifty,  and  not  a  wrinkle;  cheeks  and 
brow  like  a  baby.  This  is  the  same  process." 

"  Somehow,  it  seems  to  me  not  quite — moral,"  sug 
gested  Sophy.  "  It's  like  interfering  with  the  plans 
of  the  Almighty." 

"  God  didn't  make  the  wrinkles,"  retorted  Henrietta 
Hastings.  "  And  now  He  has  let  us  learn  how  to  keep 
ourselves  as  He  made  us." 

Sophy  suspected  Henrietta  of  levity,  she  being 
reputed  a  scoffer ;  still,  was  Scripture  any  the  less  Scrip 
ture,  though  quoted  by  the  Devil  himself?  "  When  you 
come  to  think  of  it,"  said  she,  "  it  ain't  right,  is  it,  that 

289 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

good  women  should  let  bad  women  triumph  over  them. 
It's  our  duty  to  be  as  attractive  as  we  can." 

"  Duty !  "  Henrietta  made  a  wry  face.  "  Why  do 
you  try  to  spoil  every  pleasure  in  life,  Sophia,"  cried 
she,  "  by  sliming  it  over  with  cant  about  duty  ?  " 

But  Sophy  was  absorbed  in  contriving  how  to  con 
vince  her  fellow-townswomen  that  they  were  leading  her 
into  these  vanities ;  for  Sophy,  thoroughly  human,  had 
her  full  share  of  humanity's  fondness  for  evading  re 
sponsibility.  If  the  experiments  turned  out  well,  then 
she  could  accept  the  full  credit ;  if,  however,  they  should 
turn  out  badly,  she  wished  to  have  some  one  to  blame. 
"  I  can't  get  over  my  surprise,"  said  she  to  Florence,  of 
whose  intellect  and  "  culture  "  she  had  always  been  in 
awe.  "  It  don't  somehow  seem  a  bit  like  you  to  take  to 
this  kind  of  thing." 

Florence — tall  and  fair,  a  touch  of  haughtiness  care 
fully  cultivated  with  an  eye  to  conveying  the  "  grande- 
dame  "  impression — shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Why 
shouldn't  I?" 

"  Well,  you  seemed  to  me  to  care  only  for — for  the 
things  of  the  mind." 

"  But  I  have  to  live  in  a  body,  don't  I  ?  Naturally, 
I  want  it  to  be  sightly  as  long  as  possible.  Besides, 
people  don't  take  nearly  so  much  interest  in  you 
intellectually  if  you  look  tumble-down  and  gone  to 
pieces." 

Sophy  was  cowed  by  that  "  tumble-down  and  gone  to 
pieces."  It  gave  her  the  impression  of  her  friend  dis 
dainfully  flashing  a  mirror  before  her.  "  Florence 
means  she  likes  to  have  the  men  about,"  put  in  Henri 
etta,  "  and  she  knows  they  come  only  when  their  eyes  are 
pleased." 

Sophy,  to  show  that  such  ideas  were  utterly  foreign 
290 


'SOME  STRANGE  ^ADVENTURES 

to  her,  looked  scandalized.  But  Florence  was  undis 
turbed.  "  I  don't  care  about  the  men  as  men,"  said  she. 
"  I  prefer  them  because  they  know  and  do,  while  women 
amount  to  nothing.  Besides,  women  are  so  petty  and 
sneaky  with  each  other." 

"  The  men  are  on  earth  chiefly  to  attract  the  women, 
but  they  don't  know  it,"  declared  Henrietta.  "The 
women  are  on  earth  chiefly  to  attract  the  men,  and  they 
do  know  it — though  some  of  us  pretend  otherwise. 
Wherever  people  are  really  civilized  you  find  both  the 
men  and  the  women  giving  a  lot  of  attention  to  their 
bodies.  We  are  only  showing  our  intelligence,  our  ap 
preciation  of  the  advantages  civilization  offers  us." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I'd  exactly  care  to  have  everybody 
know  what  I  was  about,"  said  Sophy,  so  simply  and 
earnestly  that  the  others  laughed. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Henrietta.  "  I  wouldn't  let 
even  my  husband  know."  Whereupon  both  Mrs.  Mur- 
dock  and  Mrs.  Berkeley  looked  embarrassed. 

As  the  two  women  had  confided  in  Sophy,  they  were 
determined  she  should  have  the  best  of  reasons  for  re 
specting  their  confidence.  Accordingly,  Sophy  was  able 
to  pretend  the  extreme  of  reluctance,  to  deceive  even 
herself,  and  finally  to  accompany  Florence  with  the  air 
and  the  feeling  of  one  overborne  and  forced. 

Florence's  doctor  was  Secor,  with  the  reputation  of 
being  able  to  reconstruct  the  human  face  and  figure  en 
tirely,  and  almost  deserving  his  reputation.  Secor  was 
about  the  first  American  doctor  of  standing  to  go  into 
what  is  beginning  to  be  spoken  of  respectfully  as  the 
aesthetic  branch  of  the  profession.  He  was  exceedingly 
proud  of  his  marvelous  skill,  much  irritated  at  the  igno 
rance  and  barbarism  that  compelled  him  to  practice  it 
in  stealth ;  but  he  was  too  conventional  at  heart,  had  too 

291 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

much  regard  for  the  social  position  of  his  family,  to 
defy  public  opinion  and  the  opinion  of  the  less  enlight 
ened  but  more  numerous  members  of  his  own  profession. 
The  preachers  were  especially  irritating  to  him.  "  Why, 
madam,"  said  he  to  Mrs.  Murdock,  "  there  was  one 
preacher  whose  eyes  I  straightened  and  whose  project 
ing  thin  ears  I  trimmed  and  set  back  against  his  empty 
head.  Would  you  believe  it,  that  scoundrel  is  now 
preaching  against  the  wicked  worldliness  of  those  who 
seek  to  correct  the  mistakes  of  nature  and  lessen  their 
handicap  in  the  race  of  life !  " 

He,  however,  did  not  at  heart  blame  the  preachers. 
In  the  development  of  aesthetic  hygiene,  medicine,  and 
surgery,  he  saw  another  evidence  of  the  decay  of  the 
old  religious  faith  which  despised  the  body  and  exalted 
the  soul,  neglected  this  life  and  fastened  wholly  upon  the 
life  beyond  the  grave.  "  The  soul  having  become  prob 
lematic,"  said  he,  "  men  and  women  naturally  begin 
again  to  give  attention  to  the  body.  The  hope  of  a 
future  life  having  become  hazy,  they  try  to  make  the 
best  possible  out  of  the  one  they  are  sure  of." 

Mrs.  Murdock  was  not  shocked  because  she  did  not 
hear.  It  was  her  habit  to  stop  listening  whenever  any 
one  talked  what  she  regarded  as  profound  matters. 
Who  pleased  might  flounder  about  in  the  ocean  of 
thought ;  for  herself,  she  would  stay  on  shore.  Besides, 
her  interest  in  Secor  was  concentrated  upon  what  he 
could  do  for  her  body.  Alone  with  him  she  abandoned 
all  pretense  of  reluctance,  and  together  they  canvassed 
the  situation  frankly  and  minutely.  With  a  clearness 
of  expression  and  an  intelligence  and  impartiality  that 
would  have  astounded  all  who  knew  her,  she  pointed  out 
to  him  just  what  she  was  and  just  what  she  would  like 
to  be.  And  Secor  took  deep  interest ;  he  was  especially  at- 

292 


'SOME  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

tracted  by  her  slight  vanity  as  to  the  charms  she  had — 
charms  of  eyes  and  complexion,  of  nose  and  most  unu 
sual  hands  and  feet,  which  so  many  women  would  have 
regarded  as  in  themselves  quite  sufficient.  She  seemed 
to  him  to  substantiate  his  favorite  theory,  that  a 
woman's  vanity  and  her  estimate  of  her  physical  value 
are  great  directly  as  her  justification  is  small.  His 
theory,  based  upon  vast  experience,  is  interesting,  but 
probably  erroneous.  It  may  be,  perhaps,  nearer  the 
truth  to  say  that  we  are  all  as  vain,  regardless  of  basis  for 
vanity,  as  the  limits  set  by  our  sense  of  humor  permits ; 
and  that  the  vanity  in  those  wholly  unjustified  and  usu 
ally  aggressive  because  uneasy,  merely  seems  greater, 
for  the  reason  that  it  is  so  grotesque.  Secor  agreed 
with  Sophy  that  the  important  defect  in  her  face  was 
its  lower  part.  "  Yes,  that's  really  the  whole  cause  of 
your  look  of  maturity,"  said  he.  "  You've  no  wrinkles 
to  speak  of.  Your  nose  is  excellent — excellent.  I 
couldn't  do  better  than  nature  has  done  for  you  in  the 
matter  of  mouth.  I  suggest  that  you  have  the  two  gold 
fillings  in  your  upper  front  teeth  taken  out  and  care 
fully  matched  porcelain  substituted.  Perhaps  a  little — 
just  a  little  straightening  of  the  teeth,  but  really  they're 
very  good." 

"  I'll  have  my  teeth  gone  over  thoroughly.  I've 
got  the  address  of  a  dentist  who,  they  say,  can  do 
wonders." 

"Bowker?" 

"  That's  the  name.     Is  he  all  right?  " 

"  None  better.  About  the  contour."  And  he  eyed 
Sophy's  heavy  cheeks  and  chin,  laid  hold  of  the  super 
fluities,  felt  them,  twisted  and  pinched  them  this  way 
and  that. 

"Can't  it  be  cut  off  somehow?"  inquired  Sophy, 
293 


OLD    WIVES   'FOR   NEWi 

much  pleased  with  effects  of  slender  face  he  got — she 
was  following  his  movements  with  the  aid  of  a  mirror. 
"  You  saj  you  can  heal  cuts  without  a  scar." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Secor.  "  I  could  operate.  But 
it's  always  wise  to  put  off  drastic  measures.  First,  let's 
see  what  comes  of  systematic  massage,  breathing,  diet, 
and  walking." 

Sophy  sighed.  No  royal  road  to  beauty !  "  I  sup 
pose  I've  got  to  come  to  it,"  said  she. 

"  All  a  question  of  habit,"  Secor  assured  her.  "  In 
six  months  you'll  have  no  desire  to  go  back.  .  .  .  Yes, 
I  think  the  bosom'll  yield  nicely  to  massage — properly 
directed.  And  the  hips — in  part.  Breathing,  dieting, 
and  walking'll  do  the  rest.  Of  course  I  can't  make  you 
a  willowy  creature.  Your  natural  type  is  the  sumptuous. 
It's  much  admired,  too." 

"  I  shouldn't  care  to  be  thin,"  replied  she. 

"  We'll  get  you  a  competent  masseuse,"  continued 
he,  "  one  with  firm,  sure,  well-padded  fingers.  And  you 
must  have  your  maid  learn  massage.  Send  her  to  me. 
I  want  to  look  at  her  hands." 

Secor  had  long  since  learned  to  discount  the  opti 
mism  of  his  female  clients  by  being  moderate,  even  pes 
simistic,  of  promise.  In  fact,  he  was  confident — and  the 
event  justified  his  diagnosis — that  Sophy  needed  no  sur 
gery,  needed  nothing  beyond  a  chance  for  her  superb 
constitution.  She  had  done  her  best  to  destroy  it ;  but  she 
had  not  even  shaken  it,  so  firmly  was  it  founded  and  built 
by  those  early  years  of  work  in  house  and  garden  and 
dairy,  of  climbing  fences  and  trees  and  hills,  of  rang 
ing  freely  in  the  open  air  all  the  year  round.  In  heart, 
in  lungs,  in  all  the  vital  organs  she  was  absolutely 
sound. 

She  got  a  letter  from  Norma,  with  news  that  in  a 


SOME  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

few  months  she  would  be  a  grandmother.  The  word, 
the  idea,  at  just  that  time,  when  her  mind  was  all  upon 
the  things  of  youth,  drew  a  smile  even  from  her  literal- 
ness.  "  A  grandmother !  "  thought  she.  "  White  hair 
and  caps  and  the  corner  of  the  fire.  I  don't  feel  a  bit 
like  that — and  I'm  not.  Yet  I  suppose  Norma  would 
think  I  was  a  silly  old  fool.  Well,  maybe  I  am ;  but  I'm 
going  to  be  happy,  and  get  all  I  can  out  of  life." 

The  three  friends  and  companions  in  aesthetic  ad 
venture,  to  be  free  from  interruption  and  secure  from 
observation,  removed  to  a  small  private  sanitarium  of 
Doctor  Secor's.  The  women  who  went  there  cut  them 
selves  off  from  friends  and  family  and  gave  out  that 
they  were  taking  a  "  complete  rest  cure."  It  was  in  a 
dull,  down-at-the-heel  block,  aside  from  the  fashionable 
and  frequented  district  and  convenient  to  Secor's  office. 
Mrs.  Berkeley's  treatment,  temporarily  frightfully  dis 
figuring,  forced  her  to  stay  indoors,  venturing  out  only 
behind  heavy  veils  and  at  night ;  so  Mrs.  Murdock  went 
about  with  Henrietta,  who  was  a  great  walker  and  an 
indefatigable  shopper.  It  was  Sophy's  first  experience 
of  the  very  fashionable  New  York  shops ;  indeed,  it  was 
her  first  experience  of  the  New  York  that  is  a  world-city. 
When  she  was  last  there,  a  dozen  years  before,  it  had 
been  an  overgrown  provincial  town,  countrified,  com 
monplace,  without  individuality.  Now,  its  Titanic  archi 
tecture,  its  vast  reaches  of  prodigal  luxury,  its  extrava 
gance  and  excitement  and  laughing  defiance  of  all  she 
had  been  regarding  as  sacred  and  fine — of  her  religion, 
her  morality,  her  ideals  of  every  kind — awed  her, 
stunned  her,  made  a  furious,  envious  anger,  which  she 
thought  was  righteous  indignation,  surge  up  within 
her.  The  feeling  was  formless,  far  beyond  her  vocabu- 

295 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

lary.  She  could  express  but  a  small  part  of  it.  Her 
outlet  was  the  flaunting  displays  of  women's  apparel  in 
the  shop  windows.  These  outraged  her  notions  of  mod 
esty.  "  If  this  isn't  stopped,"  cried  she,  "  what  chance 
will  a  respectable  woman  have?  Why,  it  used  to  be  that 
a  man  stood  in  awe  of  a  woman's  privacy.  There  was 
a  refined,  sacred  mystery  about  her.  But  what  mystery 
could  there  be  for  a  man  that  walks  these  streets  and 
looks  in  at  these  windows?  He  sees  everything  she's 
got — even  the  most  private  things." 

"  Nothing  left  for  us,"  said  Henrietta,  "  but  to  enter 
the  competition  with  the  other  kind  of  women  and  try 
to  be  finer  and  more  delicately  perfumed  and  wear  more 
lace  and  ribbons  than  they." 

"Scandalous!" 

"  No  more  scandalous  than  the  things  the  churches 
do  to  compete  with  the  saloons  for  souls,"  sparred  Hen 
rietta.  "  The  truth  is,  it's  laziness  and  stinginess  and 
lack  of  taste  that  makes  respectable  women  denounce  as 
devilish  all  the  arts  and  graces.  Now  that  just  posing 
as  virtuous  isn't  enough  any  more,  now  that  they've  got 
to  compete  with  the  women  who  have  to  be  alluring  or 
go  to  the  wall,  they'll  be  the  better  for  it." 

Henrietta  was  chagrined  to  observe  that  Sophy  was 
not  wincing,  was  not  taking  these  home-thrusts  home. 
"  I  suppose  so,"  she  answered  absently.  Her  eyes  lit 
upon  a  window  bedecked  with  stockings  and  under 
clothes  upon  wax  figures.  "  A  woman  oughtn't  to  let 
her  husband  come  here  and  walk  about,"  she  said,  with  a 
toss  and  an  angry  compression  of  the  lips. 

"  My  Fred's  safe  at  home.  These  show  windows  alone 
would  put  him  in  the  way  to  being  discontented — and 
worse." 

Sophy  was  filled  with  sullen  hatred  of  New  York, 
296 


1SOME   STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

with  despair.  What  chance  would  she  have,  even  though 
free,  when  there  was  such  competition?  Then,  she  re 
membered  Juliet  Raeburn,  and  her  lip  curled  in  scorn 
of  Murdock.  "  With  all  these  to  pick  and  choose 
from,"  thought  she,  "  he  took  up  with  her !  "  Certain 
ly,  there  was  no  accounting  for  tastes.  "  Men  are  fools 
where  women  are  concerned — plain  fools."  Well,  after 
all,  the  competition  was  not  hopeless  for  any  woman. 
Blagden's  compliments,  carefully  preserved  like  rare 
jewels,  were  here  reexamined;  and  her  feeling  of  insig 
nificance  subsided. 

As  soon  as  the  shopkeepers  and  clerks  discovered  who 
she  was,  her  pendulum  began  to  swing  swift  and  far  in 
the  opposite  direction.  They  paid  servile  court  to  her 
money ;  she  thought  it  was  to  herself,  and  there  opened 
merits  in  New  York  that  mitigated  its  vicious  defects. 
Saint  X  did  not  appreciate  her,  as  did  New  York.  And 
soon  New  York  had  firm  hold  upon  her.  She  went  from 
shop  to  shop  in  ecstasy.  Everything  she  saw  seemed 
beautiful,  and  she  longed  to  buy  it.  Luxury,  even  the 
luxury  she  adopted,  had  always  offended  her  old-fash 
ioned  frugality  as  foolish  and  sinful ;  now  she  began  to 
feel  that  every  costly  thing  had  its  uses,  was  put  into 
the  world  by  the  Almighty  to  soften  its  hardships.  Yes, 
she  must  make  haste  to  take  advantage  of  the  blessings 
the  Lord  had  created  and  had  put  within  her  reach. 
Her  one  remaining  difficulty  was  selection.  "  I  just 
can't  decide,"  she  cried.  "  Everything  I  see  seems  bet 
ter  than  the  last  thing." 

"  Most  of  this  stuff  is  trash,"  replied  Henrietta. 
"  It's  got  together  to  catch  the  eye  at  a  glance.  Make 
it  a  rule  never  to  think  of  buying  till  you've  seen  every 
thing,  and  never  to  open  your  purse  till  you've  slept  on 
your  choice.  Then,  you'll  find  there's  little  you  want, 
20  297 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

and  that  little  mighty  hard  to  find.  Most  women  are 
no  more  fitted  to  be  trusted  with  the  shopping  than  a 
child  with  the  range  of  a  toy  shop." 

"  I  guess  I'm  one  of  those  women,"  said  Sophy. 

And  she  threw  herself  upon  Henrietta's  superior  ex 
perience  and  decision.  She  would  not  buy  the  smallest 
trifle  without  first  consulting  Henrietta ;  and,  while  Hen 
rietta's  taste  was  commonplace,  it  was  at  least  not  fan 
tastic.  "  I  don't  seem  able  to  get  myself  up  as  well  as 
some  of  the  women,  the  really  smart-looking  ones.  But, 
thank  goodness,  I  don't  put  on  absurd  or  fussy  or  taw 
dry  things."  Nor  did  she  buy  anything  for  Sophy  that 
was  positively  bad,  and  much  of  the  new  outfit  was  ex 
tremely  becoming;  the  main  point  after  all  was  to  get 
Sophy  broken  of  the  habit  of  ordering  dresses  and  hats 
of  elderly  types  and  accustomed  to  taking  the  sort  of 
things  she  had  thought  fit  only  for  Norma,  almost  too 
young  even  for  Norma,  now  that  she  was  married. 

The  great  cities  of  the  earth  are  so  many  alchemist's 
retorts  into  which  are  constantly  pouring  vast  quantities 
of  human  raw  materials,  presently  to  emerge  as  fin 
ished  products  in  infinite  variety.  Of  these  magic  retorts 
New  York  is  the  greatest,  because  its  receipts  of  raw 
humanity,  domestic  and  foreign,  are  largest,  and  the 
wonders  of  transformations  wrought  in  it  by  its  power 
ful  chemicals  are  the  most  marvelous.  The  Sophy  who 
was  deposited,  fresh  from  Saint  X  and  the  mountains, 
at  the  Holland  House,  bore  small  resemblance  to  the 
Sophy  who  in  a  few  brief,  but  busy  weeks,  greeted  Blag- 
den,  comkig  to  New  York  from  Chicago  on  business  for 
Murdock.  And  she  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  dazed  ex 
pression  which  did  not  wear  off  even  after  an  evening 
with  her  and  Henrietta  at  the  theater. 

"  I  always  did  think  her  a  fine  type  of  woman,  to 
298 


'SOME  STRANGE  ADFENTUEES 

look  at  and  in  character,"  he  reflected,  as  he  was  driving 
away  from  the  boarding  house  after  they  had  had  sup 
per  together  at  Sherry's — a  supper  at  which  Sophy  re 
sisted  even  lobster  Newburg  and  a  concoction  of  fresh 
peaches  and  ice  cream  that  made  her  ache  with  longing. 
"  But  now  she's  right  in  it.  A  man  could  love  her  on 
slight  provocation.  And  I  don't  see  how  he  could  possi 
bly  do  better  than  marry  her." 

To  Blagden,  born  with  an  aristocratic,  worshipful 
mind,  and  bred  in  aristocratic  adulation  of  wealth,  this 
audacious  soaring  glance  of  a  dizzy  ambition  seemed  even 
less  sane  now  than  when  he  first  dared  to  lift  his  eyes  to 
the  exalted  golden  height  where  his  employer's  family] 
was  ensconced.  But  even  the  most  reckless  ideas  can  be 
come  familiarized;  man,  the  infinitely  adaptable,  can  so 
train  himself  that  with  no  more  than  a  tremor  he  will 
cut  loose  from  the  solid  earth  in  a  balloon  or  promenade 
a  chasm  on  a  tight  rope. 

The  two  women,  or,  rather,  Sophy,  asked  Blagden 
about  the  New  York  shops,  as  they  wished  to  overlook 
none  of  the  best  class.  He  mentioned  several  of  which 
Henrietta,  who  had  been  doing  her  shopping  in  Chicago 
the  past  four  or  five  years,  had  never  heard.  Finally, 
he  said :  "  Then,  of  course,  Dangerfield,  for  hats  and 
dresses  and,  I  believe,  fine  underclothes.  But  no  doubt 
you've  been  there." 

"  No,"  Henrietta  was  forced  to  confess.  "  I've  often 
heard  of  it,  but  it  quite  slipped  my  mind.  Sophy,  we'll 
go  to-morrow." 

And  go  they  did.  As  soon  as  they  were  before  the 
Holland  brick  and  marble  building,  Henrietta  began  to 
reproach  herself,  privately,  for  having  been  so  stupid. 
"  Sophy'll  imagine  I  don't  really  know  anything  about 

299 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

New  York,"  she  thought.  And  a  very  humiliating 
thought  it  was  to  one  who,  while  posing  as  an  indiffer 
ent,  had  the  provincial's  infantile  pride  in  her  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  metropolis.  But  she  soon  forgot  her 
self  in  amazement  before  the  new  departure  in  shop- 
keeping. 

"  The  prices  will  be  something  fierce,"  she  murmured, 
with  intent  to  lead  Sophy  to  think  that  the  reason  for 
her  glaring  oversight.  "  The  customers  have  to  pay  for 
all  this  gorgeousness.  .  .  .  Those  flowers  are  real. 
They  must  cost  a  small  fortune,  every  day." 

They  wandered  up  the  grand  staircase  and  into  the 
main  dressmaking  salon.  It  was  off  season,  and  they  had 
been  having  difficulty  in  getting  anything  at  all  because 
so  many  of  the  special  shops  were  closed  or  emptied  of 
their  best  for  their  seaside  branches.  But  Dangerfield's, 
although  almost  deserted  on  that  particular  day,  was 
ready  for  business — ready  for,  and  getting,  the  big  out- 
of-town  trade,  the  rich  people  of  the  West  and  South 
who  make  New  York  City  their  summer  resort.  Not  a 
fashionable  crowd,  but  eager  to  become  fashionable,  and 
grateful  for  aid  toward  that  goal,  no  matter  how  heavy 
the  charge.  Sophy  continued  to  show  that  she  was  over 
awed  ;  but  Henrietta,  as  became  a  leader  and  guide,  con 
cealed  her  awe  and  bestirred  herself  first  among  the 
dresses,  then  among  the  hats,  and  finally  in  the  new  de 
partment,  the  showings  of  the  most  alluring  and  most 
expensive  underclothing  she  had  ever  seen.  Sophy  fol 
lowed,  so  bewildered  by  marble  pillars  and  fountains 
and  tapestries  and  Oriental  carpets  that  she  hardly 
saw  what  the  salesgirls  were  exhibiting.  Though  she 
had  been  speedily  cured  of  all  feeling  about  the  sin- 
fulness  of  luxurious  outer  dress,  she  had  until  now 
retained  the  feeling  that  in  simple  and  moderate  under- 

300 


SOME   STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

clothing  the  upright  woman  showed  her  real  quality ; 
she  might  yield  in  other  things,  but  there  she  must 
stand  or  be  lost. 

Henrietta  had  the  same  feeling,  as  an  instinct;  but 
she  was  ashamed  of  it  and  fought  it.  "  Such  things  as 
these  are  waste  of  money,"  said  she  to  Sophy.  "  Fred 
never  looks  at  me,  and  no  one  else  can."  Still,  Henrietta 
yielded  to  the  extent  of  some  stockings  and  chemises, 
several  hundred  dollars  for  a  mere  handful  of  those  cob- 
weblike  goods. 

When  the  stockings  and  chemises  passed  to  the 
ownership  of  a  respectable  woman,  Sophy  Murdock 
looked  at  them  with  different  eyes.  "  I  must  have  some 
too,"  cried  she.  She  bought,  became  intoxicated  by 
possession,  bought  more  and  more,  until  Henrietta 
could  not  keep  envy  out  of  her  handsome,  if  rather 
too  sharp,  features. 

"  One'd  think  you  were  buying  your  trousseau — 
or  worse,  Sophy,"  said  she  with  a  sarcastic  laugh. 

Sophy  colored  high.  "  They're  so  pretty,"  she 
pleaded. 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  a  temptation  to  show  them,"  re 
torted  Henrietta. 

Sophy  burst  into  a  profuse  sweat  of  embarrass 
ment.  She  abruptly  ceased  to  buy,  though  the  sales 
woman  tempted  her  more  subtly  than  ever,  looking 
daggers  at  the  meddlesome  Mrs.  Hastings. 

Details,  such  as  these  extravagant  purchases  of 
beautiful  clothing  to  be  worn  where  no  man  could  see, 
are  usually  disdained  by  biographers  of  character. 
Yet  it  was  on  that  day  and  at  those  displays  of  under 
clothing  that  the  character  of  Sophy  Murdock  began 
its  final  and  most  radical  change.  Clad  in  those  gar 
ments,  beneath  her  new  elegances  of  gown  and  hat  and 

301 


OLD   WIVES   FOR 


gloves,  she  had  the  courage  to  be  herself,  to  dare  to 
think  the  thoughts  she  had  been  all  those  years  sup 
pressing,  to  dare  to  send  freely  out  from  her  heart 
into  her  blood  the  emotions  she  had  been  taught  as 
a  child  to  believe  were  "  the  natural  sinfulness  of  the 
flesh." 

When  she  accompanied  Henrietta  —  or  rather,  when 
Henrietta  accompanied  her  —  to  Dangerfield's  again,  a 
week  later,  there  was  a  difference  in  her  carriage,  in  the 
sparkle  of  her  eye,  in  the  tone  of  her  voice;  there  was 
even  a  distinct  new  sprightliness  and  attempt  at  what 
Henrietta  called  "  free  and  easy  breadth  "  in  her  con^ 
versation.  In  this  world,  the  psychologists  to  the  con 
trary  notwithstanding,  there  are  far  more  souls  living 
up  to  the  character  of  the  bodies  they  dwell  in  than 
there  are  bodies  living  up  to  the  character  of  their 
tenant  souls. 

As  they  were  walking  in  Fifth  Avenue,  Sophy] 
stopped  Henrietta  at  a  window  displaying  a  model 
bathroom  for  a  palace  —  marble  floor,  walls,  ceiling, 
marble  pool,  tub,  footbath  and  stand,  palms  and  white 
fur  rugs,  long  mirrors,  tables  with  astonishing  arrays 
of  toilet  articles.  "  I'm  going  to  have  a  room  just  like 
that  put  in  my  suite  at  home,"  said  she. 

Poor  and  rich  are  too  remote  for  poor  definitely 
and  actively  to  envy  rich.  It  was  the  real  and  hateful 
envy  of  not  so  rich  for  rich  that  made  Henrietta's  face 
ugly,  even  bestial  for  an  instant. 

"  I  mustn't  forget  to  write  down  the  names  of 
those  powders  and  perfumes,  too,"  continued  the  un 
conscious  Sophy.  "  But,  then,  Katy  will  know.  I'm 
having  her  take  a  course  in  manicuring  and  hair  dress- 
ing,  in  addition  to  the  massage  lessons." 

Henrietta's  eyes  sparkled  with  pretended  amuse- 
302 


'SOME   STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

ment,  with  real  suspicion.  She  could  not  trust  herself 
to  speak.  "  And  I  thought  Sophy  was  a  settled 
woman,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  might  have  known ! 
She  wouldn't  be  astir  after  all  these  years,  except  for 


XXI 


SOPHY  had  been  at  Dangerfield's  for  several  fit 
tings,  both  alone  and  with  the  others — for  Mrs. 
Berkeley,  without  the  mole,  and  with  a  skin  as  young 
and  smooth  as  Norma  Degarmo's,  was  going  about  in 
daylight  again.  On  the  morning  before  the  departure 
for  Saint  X,  she  took  Henrietta  with  her,  when  she 
went  to  make  arrangements  about  the  things  that 
would  not  be  done  in  time  to  go  into  the  trunks.  Flor 
ence  would  not  accompany  them.  "  It's  only  an  irri 
tation  to  see  all  those  tempting  things,"  said  she. 
"  Secor's  bill  is  frightful,  and  I  can't  afford  to  buy 
clothes,  Dangerfield  clothes  " — which  meant  that  she 
had  reached  and  strained  the  limit  of  Berkeley's  domes 
tic  allowance. 

Sophy  was  impatient  to  be  home  again.  She  was 
debating  whether  she  should  not  herself  stir  up  the 
matter  of  the  divorce,  if  she  did  not  soon  hear  from 
Murdock's  lawyers ;  she  was  impatient  to  begin  the  new 
career  opening  before  her  the  more  brightly  because 
vaguely — the  career  in  which  she  would  be  a  woman  of 
fortune,  and  free  and  unencumbered. 

Henrietta  had  drifted  into  the  millinery  depart 
ment;  she  herself,  through  with  the  last  fittings,  was 
resting  and  discussing  styles  with  the  head  saleswoman. 
There  entered  from  the  hall,  with  a  footman  bearing 

304 


A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN 


small  parcels  in  her  train,  a  woman  whom  she  instantly 
decided  was  the  most  beautifully  dressed  she  had  ever 
seen.  She  had  on  an  early  fall  street  dress  of  a  delicate 
shade  of  tan,  with  an  edge  of  creamy  white  showing 
here  and  there;  on  her  plumed  hat,  of  the  same  shade 
as  her  dress,  was  a  big  white  buckle  that  depended  upon 
its  shape  and  position  for  its  effect  of  crowning  to  per 
fection  a  perfect  costume.  She  was  a  slender  woman, 
her  figure  seeming  to  be  vividly  alive  everywhere  with 
in  her  garments.  Her  hands  and  feet  were  also  very 
slender.  She  was  carrying  a  big  bunch  of  lilies  of  the 
valley.  Sophy  could  see  only  her  profile — the  profile 
of  a  pale,  slender,  exquisite  face,  high-bred,  eager, 
feminine,  yet  curiously  resolute. 

"  Who  is  that  lady  ?  "  Sophy  inquired. 

The  saleswoman  turned  just  as  the  newcomer 
glanced  in  their  direction.  "  Why,  that's  Miss  Rae- 
burn,"  she  cried.  "  She  must  be  just  back.  She's  been 
away  for  a  long  rest.  I'll  bring  her  and  introduce  her 
to  you." 

Miss  Raeburn!  Sophy's  head  swam;  unconscious 
of  appearances,  she  craned  her  neck  in  her  eagerness 
to  see.  Yes,  this  exquisite  woman  was  none  other  than 
the  wan,  fagged,  narrow-chested  nurse,  Miss  Ray. 
"  No,  no,"  she  stammered,  terror  and  command  in  her 
voice — for  the  girl  was  already  started  toward  Miss 
Raeburn.  If  Miss  Raeburn  recognized  her,  she  gave 
no  sign  of  it.  She  smiled  and  waved  her  flowers  friend- 
lily  at  the  girl  and  passed  on  into  an  inner  room. 

"  No,  no,"  repeated  Sophy  hysterically.  "  I 
haven't  got  time." 

"  You'd  have  liked  her,"  said  the  girl  regret 
fully.  "  We  all* adore  her  here.  And  she's  not  a  bit 
set  up." 

305 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

When  Sophy  could  trust  herself  to  speak,  she 
asked,  "  Is  she  one  of  your  customers  ?  " 

The  girl  laughed.  "  Dear  me,  no.  She's  Danger- 
field's.  She's  the  whole  show." 

Sophy  rose,  color  high,  eyes  glittering.  "  I'll  not 
wait  for  Mrs.  Hastings,"  she  said  haughtily  to  the 
startled,  astounded  girl,  and  without  another  word 
swept  from  the  room  and  from  the  house.  Her  emo 
tions  raged  through  her  brain  in  a  succession  of  cy 
clones.  She  felt  she  had  been  tricked  and  outraged  in 
a  dozen  different  ways.  So  this  was  the  woman  who 
had  lured  her  husband  away!  Not  a  miserable,  com 
mon  nurse  person,  poor  and  meek  and  homely;  but  a 
brazen  creature,  beautiful  after  a  fashion,  though  loud 
— especially  loud  in  dress — and  a  woman  engaged  in  a 
business  from  time  immemorial  as  intimately  associated 
with  irregular  living  as  the  stage.  "  I'll  never  consent 
to  it — never ! "  she  cried,  as  the  electric  cab  took  her 
toward  the  Holland.  "  He  and  she  sha'n't  triumph 
over  me!  ...  I've  no  doubt  she  came  back  to  him  as 
soon  as  I  and  the  children  left.  .  .  .  And  I've  been 
spending  money  with  her! — been  giving  her  thousands 
of  dollars !  .  .  .  No  doubt  he's  backing  her  in  that 
low,  wasteful,  wicked  business.  But  I'll  stop  that !  I'll 
stop  her  switching  round  as  if  she  had  a  tail.  I'll 
make  such  a  scandal  that  he'll  come  crawling  home,  and 
we'll  see  how  long  this  Dangerfield  business  lasts. 
Dangerfield! — why,  it's  money  that  belongs  to  his  wife 
and  family  that's  keeping  it  up.  I  ought  to  have  de 
nounced  her  right  there.  I  ought  to  have  torn  those 
clothes  of  shame  off  her  back." 

It  was  the  irony  of  fate  that,  when  she  got  to  the 
hotel — they  had  left  the  boarding  house  as  soon  as 
Florence  was  presentable — she  found  a  note  from  her 

306 


"A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN" 

husband — a  scrawl  without  beginning,  and  ending 
simply  "  Murdock  " — saying  that  he  would  return  to 
take  her  to  lunch,  as  he  had  a  matter  of  business  to 
talk  over  with  her.  Her  eyes  blazed  as  she  read  and 
her  face  was  aflame.  "  Yes,  I'll  talk  business  with 
him !  "  she  muttered. 

Two  hours  later  she  was  not  less  angry  and  deter- 
minded,  but  had  her  jealous  rage  under  better  control. 
She  was  even  taking  a  certain  cold  pleasure  in  plan 
ning  how  she  would  lead  him  on  and  then  suddenly 
crush  him  with  a  refusal  to  divorce  and  a  proclama 
tion  of  defiance.  Henrietta  and  Florence  came  into 
the  sitting  room  the  three  shared,  just  as  the  bell  boy 
brought  his  card.  She  did  not  wait  for  the  boy  to 
depart.  "  My  husband  is  lunching  with  me,"  she  said 
to  her  two  friends.  "  For  some  time  he's  been  carrying 
on  with  a  woman  named  Raeburn.  I've  just  found  out 
that  she  keeps  Dangerfield's.  He's  been  paying  for 
her  extravagances.  But  I'm  going  to  stop  it." 

Mrs.  Berkeley,  shocked  by  the  outburst,  and 
amazed  that  quiet,  rather  shy  Sophy  should  thus  de 
scend  to  making  a  public  scandal,  frowned  the  open- 
mouthed,  open-eared  bell  boy  from  the  room.  Hen 
rietta  said  eagerly,  "  This  is  the  first  I've  heard 
of  it.  Dangerfield!  Miss  Raeburn!  Are  you  sure, 
Sophy?" 

Mrs.  Berkeley,  mindful  that  Mrs.  Hastings  was 
about  as  ardent  and  industrious  a  gossip  as  a  quiet 
town  ever  bred,  said  entreatingly :  "  Please  don't  say 
any  more,  Sophy." 

"Say?"  cried  Sophy.  "Why,  I  want  the  whole 
world  to  know !  I'll  drag  her  down !  I'll  teach  him  to 
insult  me  and  disgrace  his  children !  "  And  she  rushed 
toward  the  hall  door. 

307 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW, 

"  Don't  you  think  some  one  ought  to  be  with  you 
when  you  talk  to  him  ?  "  suggested  Henrietta. 

"  Henrietta ! "  exclaimed  Florence,  horrified  by  this 
bold  bid  for  the  gratification  of  morbid  curiosity  and 
of  cynical  passion  for  mischief-making. 

But  Sophy,  always  easy  to  swerve  and  always 
eager  for  support,  had  paused.  "  You're  right,  dear." 
She  turned  to  Florence.  "  You'll  come  with  me,  Flor 
ence?  " 

"  No,  Sophy.  You  and  he  should  talk  over  your 
private  affairs  alone." 

Sophy,  abashed  by  the  severity  of  Mrs.  Berkeley's 
tone,  glanced  uncertainly  at  Henrietta.  "  If  you  want 
my  opinion,"  said  Henrietta,  "  no  one  woman  is  a 
match  for  such  a  man  as  he.  Of  course,  if  you  wish 
to  give  in  to  him " 

"  I  do  hope  you'll  see  him  alone,"  pleaded  Florence. 
"He  may  have  come  seeking  a  reconciliation,  and " 

"  Reconciliation !  "  raged  Sophy.  "  I'll  have  noth 
ing  to  do  with  him.  He  has  turned  my  love  into  hate. 
If  it  weren't  for  the  wickedness  of  it,  I'd  divorce  him. 
Come,  Henrietta!  Let's  go  to  him." 

Murdock  was  in  the  main  parlor,  walking  slowly 
to  and  fro  with  a  military  regularity  of  step  that  gave 
him  an  air  of  inevitableness.  The  outdoor  life  he  had 
been  leading  continuously  since  he  got  clear  of  doctors 
and  nurses  had  put  a  deeper  bronze  upon  his  tawny 
skin,  had  brightened  his  eyes  and  hardened  his  flesh. 
As  Mrs.  Hastings  looked  at  him,  handsome,  distin 
guished  and  young,  she  wondered  at  Sophy.  "  Still," 
she  reflected,  "  there's  no  accounting  for  physical  at 
tractions  and  repulsions.  I  can  understand  why  peo 
ple  think  it  queer  I  love  Fred,  with  his  big  fat  face 
and  his  great  stomach.  I  think  it's  queer,  myself." 

308 


A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN 


Further,  she  remembered  she  had  often  thought  that, 
for  all  his  good  looks  and  agreeable  manners,  she  could 
never  fancy  Murdock.  There  are  men  whom  all  women 
like ;  there,  are  women  all  men  like.  They  are  usually  of 
conspicuous  sex  development  and  chameleon  like  adap 
tability.  But  the  men  and  women  of  the  Murdock  sort, 
strongly  individual,  careless  of  their  fellows,  whom  the 
timid  conciliate  through  fear  of  enmities,  indifferent 
to  the  opposite  sex  unless  themselves  attracted,  yield 
ing  then  with  reluctance  to  a  force  that  threatens  their 
self-control — such  men  and  women  create,  where  they 
do  not  care  to  charm,  an  impression  of  coldness,  often 
of  apathy,  of  entire  lack  of  charm.  Murdock  had 
penetrated  the  clever,  insincere,  footless  Henrietta 
years  before,  and  had  tossed  her  on  that  large  private 
human  rubbish  heap  which  everyone  of  wide  acquaint 
ance  accumulates.  He  saw  her,  frowned  impatiently. 
His  glance  sped  on  to  Sophy. 

Like  most  married  people,  he  was  not  in  the  habit 
of  actually  seeing  his  wife,  as  a  rule,  when  he  looked  at 
her.  In  fact,  he  had  trained  himself,  not  wholly  con 
sciously,  to  see  as  little  as  his  habitually  observant 
eyes  could  see.  But  the  alteration  in  her  dress,  in  her 
face,  in  her  figure,  in  her  whole  exterior  personality 
was  so  marked  that  his  attention  was  arrested.  Not  in ! 
many  a  year  had  she  looked  so  well.  She  was  still  a 
large  woman,  but  her  body  now  seemed  part  of  her, 
and  no  longer  an  ill-fitted,  cumbersome  envelope.  Her 
face  was  in  better  proportion  also ;  her  dress  and  hat 
had  distinction,  and  were  of  style  and  colors  befitting 
her  youth.  He  noted  the  change,  in  general  and  then, 
in  detail,  with  surprise,  but  without  the  smallest  sense 
of  personal  interest.  For  him  his  married  life  was  a 
finished  episode,  sealed  and  filed.  It  belonged  to  the 

309 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

past,  not  to  the  present ;  it  was  part  of  the  career  of  a 
Charles  Murdock  who  was  as  dead  as  yesterday.  He 
extended  his  hand  coldly  to  Mrs.  Hastings,  withdrew 
it  the  instant  it  had  touched  hers,  stood  smiling  pleas 
antly  at  his  wife.  "  How  well  you  are  looking !  "  said 
he.  "  I  like  that  dress.  You  got  it  here?  " 

Sophy  gave  a  contemptuous  sneer.  "  From  Dan- 
gerfield,"  she  said,  eyes  fiercely  upon  him. 

He  felt  what  was  coming,  straightened,  stiffened 
himself,  effaced  all  expression  from  his  face. 

"  From  that  Raeburn  woman,"  she  went  on,  loudly. 
"  From  the  dressmaking  establishment  you  are  keep 
ing  up  for  her."  She  turned  to  Henrietta.  "  And  he 
soon  to  be  a  grandfather !  " 

It  was  Murdock's  first  news  of  the  venerable  dig 
nity  Norma  was  about  to  confer  upon  him.  But  at 
the  moment  he  had  none  of  the  pleasant  thoughts  that 
normally  come  in  the  train  of  such  tidings.  The  word 
"  grandfather "  produced  precisely  the  effect  Sophy 
intended.  It  smote  and  staggered  him  with  the  very 
sight  and  odor  of  old  age.  It  rang  a  knell  in  his  ears, 
the  dolorous  funeral  bell  over  youth.  "  My  God !  " 
he  muttered,  his  features  showing  how  profoundly  he 
i  was  moved ;  the  two  women,  not  unnaturally,  thought 
*him  conscience-stricken. 

"  Shame  on  you !  Shame  on  you ! "  declaimed 
Sophy,  following  up  her  fancied  advantage. 

There  were  several  people  near ;  they  heard,  lookeds 
listened  for  more.  Henrietta  put  a  monitory  hand  on 
her  arm.  "  Let's  go  into  the  side  parlor,"  she  said. 
She  glanced  at  Murdock.  "  Or,  shall  we  go  down  to 
lunch?" 

"  We  are  not  going  to  lunch,"  cried  Sophy. 

Mrs.  Hastings  drew  her  insistently  toward  tHei 
310 


A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN 


nearest  of  the  small  parlors.  Murdock  hesitated,  fol 
lowed  them.  "  I  wish  to  talk  with  my  wife  alone,  Mrs. 
Hastings,"  he  said. 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  talk  to  you  alone,"  retorted 
Sophy.  "  You've  disgraced  your  family,  and  I  refuse 
to  be  silent  any  longer.  Oh,  I  know  what  you've  come 
for.  Well,  I  tell  you  now  that  I'll  live  up  to  my  marriage 
vows,  as  I  always  have  done.  I  promised  to  remain  your 
wife  until  death,  and  I  will.  I'll  be  no  accomplice  in 
adultery.  And  you  and  I  grandparents ! "  In  the 
sweep  of  outraged  virtue  she  quite  forgot  her  own  atti 
tude,  up  to  two  hours  before,  toward  the  venerable  honors 
and  duties  of  grandparentity. 

Murdock's  stern,  steady  gaze  finally  pierced  her 
through  the  veil  anger  had  drawn  over  her  sight.  "  So 
much  the  greater  reason  for  repairing  our  errors,"  said 
he,  "  and  hastening  to  make  the  best  of  life." 

Her  eyes  had  sunk  before  his ;  but  his  words  were 
fuel  to  her  fury.  And  it  did  not  burn  the  less  fiercely 
because  she,  full  of  youthful  projects  and  of  desires 
for  life  in  its  heydey,  could  guess  what  was  passing 
in  his  mind,  could  not  but  feel  that  her  belief  in  her 
own  persisting  charms  was  discredited  by  his  anxiety 
to  be  rid  of  her,  to  spend  his  summer  in  another's  com 
pany.  "  I  suppose,"  she  sneered,  "  you  and  that  Rae- 
burn  woman  came  to  town  together " 

"  Stop,"  said  Murdock  quietly.  "  All  that  you  say 
about  her  is  false — on  my  honor,  it  is  false." 

"  Your  honor?  "  she  taunted.     "  Your  honor!  " 

"  I  beg  you  to  leave  us,  Mrs.  Hastings,"  said  Mur 
dock  with  icy  politeness. 

"  She'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  cried  Sophy.  "  I 
want  Henrietta  to  hear  me  say  what  I'm  going  to  say 
to  you." 

311 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

Murdock  rose.     "  I  must  be  going,"  he  said  calmly. 

"  Unless  you  can  tell  the  truth,  I  hope  you  will  go," 
replied  his  wife.  "  I  want  to  hear  no  more  denials  of 
the  truth."  He  bowed  and  turned  away.  "  Henrietta, 
all  the  time  I  was  up  there,"  she  went  on,  "  waiting  and 
watching  over  him,  when  he  was  pretending  to  be  dying, 
he  had  that  woman  with  him — day  and  night." 

Murdock  wheeled  upon  them  so  abruptly  that  Hen 
rietta  shrank  in  alarm.  His  face  had  been  like  stone ;  it 
was  now  all  fire  and  energ}^.  "Is  that  true?"  he  de 
manded.  "  Was  she  there?  " 

Sophy  laughed  in  derision.  "  Listen  to  that,  Henri 
etta!  I  suppose  she  hasn't  dared  tell  him  I  saw  her." 

But  Murdock  was  not  listening.  He  had  instinctively 
half  turned  away  to  hide  his  expression,  and  was  mutter 
ing  :  "  So  it  was  she.  It  was  she ! "  And  his  glowing 
face  was  but  a  faint  reflection  of  the  emotion,  surging, 
sparkling  within  him,  like  spring's  delicious,  delirious 
tide  of  life  in  all  that  lives  or  can  live.  He  knew  now 
he  had  not  really  believed  she  was  there,  even  when  he 
fancied  he  did.  But  here  was  his  dream  come  true.  She 
did  indeed  love  him — even  as  he  loved  her.  He  had 
hoped,  had  believed  it.  Now,  he  knew !  She  loved  him, 
for — "it  was  she  I" 

His  wife  caught  the  words.  "  Yes,  it  was  she,  it  was 
she,"  she  mocked.  "  And  the  whole  world  shall  know 
it.  You'll  find  out — both  of  you — what  people  think  of 
such  proceedings." 

This  threatened  assault  upon  Juliet  Raeburn  in 
stantly  sobered  him.  "  I  tell  you,"  replied  he,  "  I  did 
not  know  Miss  Raeburn  was  one  of  the  nurses.  I  had 
been  told  not,  and  I  believed  them.  It  seemed  too  im 
probable  that  she  should  be  there.  In  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Hastings  I  wish  to  repulse  every  insinuation  against 

312 


A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN 


Miss  Raeburn's  character."  He  turned  to  Henrietta. 
"  My  son  and  I  met  Miss  Raeburn  in  the  northwest 
woods  two  years  ago  because  her  camp  and  ours  hap 
pened  to  adjoin.  How  she  came  to  be  one  of  my  nurses 
I  do  not  know.  There  is  some  simple,  certainly  harm 
less  explanation.  She  may  have  happened  to  be  on  the 
wrecked  train " 

"  No  doubt  she  was !  "  cried  Sophy  with  a  triumphant 
laugh. 

Murdock  flushed,  ended  with  a  calm  frank,  "  Your 
good  sense  will  tell  you,  Mrs.  Hastings,  that  my  wife  is 
yielding  to  jealous  and  unwarranted  imaginings." 

"  Do  you  deny  you  love  her?  "  demanded  Sophy. 
"  Do  you  deny  she  loves  you?  " 

"  We  have  already  taken  Miss  Raeburn's  name  in 
vain  too  often  in  this  conversation." 

"  Take  her  name  in  vain — her  name !  The  name  of 
his  woman !  Hear  him,  Henrietta !  " 

Murdock  suddenly  bent  upon  Henrietta  a  look  of 
dark  fury,  of  imperious  command  that  drove  her  in  con 
fusion  from  the  room.  His  wife  was  about  to  follow 
when  he  turned  the  same  gaze  on  her.  She  shrank  before 
it.  "  You  have  goaded  me  too  far,  madam,"  he  said  with 
dangerous  calm.  "  You  have  lied  about  me  and  about 
an  innocent  wroman ;  you  have  made  a  scandal  before 
strangers,  before  the  most  notorious  gossip  and  tale 
bearer  out  home.  Very  well.  Now  hear  me.  If  you 
open  your  lips  again  to  anyone  about  Miss  Raeburn, 
and  if  you  do  not  at  once  resume  the  proceedings  for 
divorce,  you  will  not  get  another  penny.  I  will  not  even 
pay  your  outstanding  bills.  What  am  I  to  you  but  a 
pocketbook?  There  never  was  a  more  blindly  devoted 
husband  until  you  deliberately  alienated  yourself  from 
me.  You  have  not  been  a  wife  but  a  drag ;  an  indolent, 
21  313 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

shiftless —  No,  I  am  forgetting  myself.  For  years  our 
relations  have  been  on  a  business  basis  only.  Well,  if 
you  want  money,  you  must  bargain  for  it.  You  can 
have  half  of  all  I've  got  if  you  meet  my  terms.  If  you 
don't,  not  a  cent !  Your  allowance  stops  with  this  month. 
That  is  all!" 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  strode  away.  In  the  outer 
parlor  he  met  Henrietta.  He  paused  before  her;  the 
calm  fury  of  his  gaze  fascinated  her.  "  Mrs.  Hastings," 
he  said,  "  you  thrust  yourself  into  my  family  affairs, 
and  heard  things  you  ought  to  have  been  ashamed  to 
listen  to.  You  evidently  have  no  shame.  I  shall  appeal 
to  an  emotion  to  which  you  will  respond.  If  you  repeat 
to  a  living  soul  anything  you  heard  to-day,  if  you  speak 
of  Miss  Raeburn  or  of  my  wife's  affairs  or  of  mine  I 
shall  hear  of  it.  And  I  shall  wipe  out  your  fortune 
and  reduce  you  to  poverty.  Do  I  make  myself  clear?  " 

Henrietta  did  not  answer;  she  was  gray  to  the  lips, 
and  shaking  in  the  spasms  of  a  violent  nervous  chill. 

"  Answer  me !  "  he  commanded.  "  Do  you  under 
stand?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  she  faintly,  though  her  teeth  clinched 
to  keep  them  from  chattering. 

"  Then — guard  your  tongue." 

And  he  went,  Henrietta's  hypnotized  eyes  following 
him,  in  them  a  look  of  fear  and  of  admiration.  When 
she  coulcf  no  longer  see  him  she  drew  a  great  breath  and 
said  to  herself :  "  Any  woman  would  be  glad  to  have 
such  a  man  as  that  trample  on  her.  And  Sophy  has 
thrown  him  away!  Fool!  Selfish,  ignorant,  conceited 
fool!"  She  rejoined  Sophy,  who  was  sitting  stupefied 
under  the  blow  of  Murdock's  last  words.  "  Poor  dear!  " 
she  said  soothingly.  "  He  is  a  frightful  man.  Every 
body  will  sympathize  with  you." 

314 


A    FRIGHTFUL   MAN 


Sophy's  reply  was  a  look  of  agony. 

Murdock's  threat  struck  such  terror  into  Henrietta 
Hastings's  soul  that  she  did  not  go  West  by  the  train 
Sophy  and  Florence  took,  but  changed  her  tickets  to 
another  route.  And  she  never  hinted  even  to  Fred  what 
she  had  seen  and  heard. 


XXII 


MRS.  MURDOCH:  and  Mrs.  Berkeley  and  their  maids, 
all  parading  trophies  of  protracted  and  diligent  metro 
politan  sojourn,  descended  from  the  express  at  Saint  X. 
The  station  hack  drivers,  countrymen,  flown  from  the 
lonesomeness  of  farm  life  and  making  a  living  in  the  way 
that  in  town  comes  handiest  to  the  farm-bred,  gaped  in 
astonishment  and  delight.  "  Who'd  think,"  said  one  high- 
hipped  ex-farmer,  a  young  man  made  prematurely  de 
crepit  of  aspect  and  voice  by  hot  bread  and  fried  things 
three  times  a  day  for  thirty  years,  "  who'd  think  them 
two  yander  was  Sophy  Baker  and  my  wife's  second 
cousin  Flora  Warfield  that  used  to  go  tearin'  and  rarin' 
licketty-split  over  the  fields  barefoot  in  calico  slips?  " 
Mrs.  Murdock  saw  her  aristocratic  son-in-law  just  be 
hind  Mrs.  Berkeley's  advancing  groom.  She  was  sur 
prised  and  flattered  by  this  attention. 

"  I  thought  Norma  oughtn't  to  come  out,"  explained 
Degarmo,  "  and  it  did  seem  cheerless  for  you  to  arrive  in 
tliis  nasty  drizzle  with  no  one  to  welcome  you." 

"  Is  Norma  ill?  "  said  Sophy,  whose  mind  had  lat 
terly  been  only  for  her  own  affairs. 

"  Oh,  no  —  fine  as  a  fiddle.  Only  —  in  circum 
stances " 

"  Of  course  —  naturally,"  the  prospective  grand 
mother  hastened  to  say. 

316 


FOR   NORMA'S   SAKE 


"  No,"  continued  Joe,  "  she's  as  active  as  can  be. 
She  has  been  up  at  the  Eyrie  every  day  for  a  week, 
putting  things  to  rights." 

Joe  was  at  once  impressed  by  the  great  and  gratify 
ing  improvement  in  his  mother-in-law's  appearance — her 
less  heavy,  less  stolid  face,  her  more  shapely  figure,  her 
fashionable,  youthful  traveling  dress  and  hat.  But  he 
also  saw  what  he  was  looking  for — the  signs  of  secret 
anxiety  weighing  upon  her.  A  genuine  secret  anxiety, 
as  distinguished  from  our  more  or  less  theatrical  emo 
tions  for  the  purpose  of  making  ourselves  interesting  to 
ourselves  and  our  fellow-beings,  has  to  be  intense  indeed 
before  we  can  no  longer  contrive  to  prevent  it  from  show 
ing  itself  outwardly.  Sophy's  look  of  care  and  worry 
was  proof  how  deep  Murdock  had  shot  dread  into  her. 
Craft  could  not  have  suggested  a  more  effective  way  of 
dealing  with  her.  To  kill  any  passion,  it  is  only  neces 
sary  to  kindle  another  and  stronger  passion.  Sophy's 
jealousy,  her  smarts  and  stings  from  wounded  vanity, 
had  been  forgotten,  swallowed  up  in  fear  for  her  material 
welfare  —  perforce  the  prime  concern  with  all  human 
beings,  except  in  moments  of  impulse.  In  those  weeks 
in  New  York  she  had  learned  of  the  treasures  that  open 
to  golden  keys ;  and  no  miser  values  wealth  as  do  those 
who  know  and  love  what  it  will  buy. 

"  Norma's  suspicions  weren't  groundless,"  thought 
Joe,  from  whom  Norma's  pride  had  withheld  all  but 
a  prudence-compelled  hint  of  her  family's  troubles. 
"  There's  the  devil  to  pay  between  them."  On  the  way 
to  the  Eyrie  he  disclosed  the  real  reason  for  his  un 
wonted  and  even  superfluous  courtesy  in  meeting  her, 
though  she,  never  delving  into  motives  and  always  ac 
cepting  surface-seeming  as  reality,  did  not  see  it.  Her 
newly  energized  vanity  told  her  he  had  come  because  she 

317 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

was  a  person  of  such  consequence ;  and  she  accepted  this 
as  she  accepted  for  true  the  exclamations  of  ravished 
delight  from  milliners  and  dressmakers  when  she  was 
trying  on  their  wares.  "  You'll  pardon  me  for  speak 
ing  of  it,"  began  Joe,  "  but  Norma  has  somehow  got  the 
notion  that — that  things  are  not  going  quite  as  smoothly 
as  they  might  between  you  and  her  father." 

"  Yes,  I  wrote  to  her.  I  wanted  her  to  know  the 
rights  of  the  way  I've  been  treated." 

Joe  diplomatically  concealed  the  anger  roused  in  him 
by  what  he  regarded  as  evidence  of  Sophy's  utter  selfish 
ness  ;  for  it  seemed  to  him  the  outermost  limit  of  selfish 
ness  for  a  woman,  knowing  her  own  daughter  was  about 
to  become  a  mother,  deliberately  to  harrow  her  mind. 
"  Please  don't  think  Norma  asked  me  to  speak  of  it  to 
you,"  said  he.  "  She  hasn't  even  spoken  of  your  letter. 
But  I  feel — and  no  doubt  you  do,  too — that  she  mustn't 
be  worried.  It's  only  four  months  away  now." 

Sophy  welcomed  her  son-in-law's  intrusion;  he  had 
opened  the  subject  she  most  wished  to  discuss.  "  Yes," 
said  she,  "  he  is  acting  scandalously.  I've  done  my  best 
to  keep  it  quiet,  but  he  won't  have  it.  No,  I'm  going  to 
bring  suit  for  divorce  against  him.  Some  women  might 
be  able  to  stand  it.  /  can't.  I'm  not  sure  what  the 
teachings  of  religion  are,  but  I  won't  believe  God  would 
want  me  to  continue  this  life  of  martyrdom."  She  was 
crying  softly  now.  "  I  suppose  there  are  those  that  envy 
me  wealth  and  luxury.  But  it's  just  as  I  said  to  my 
maid  this  morning  when  she  was  doing  my  hair.  '  Katy,' 
says  I,  '  I'd  gladly  change  places  with  you.'  And  I 
meant  it." 

Joe,  of  a  less  credulous  and  more  analytic  genera 
tion,  was  not  in  the  least  moved  by  her  tears.  He  re 
garded  tears  as  simply  a  feminine  weapon,  and  of  a  past 

SIS 


FOB   NORMALS   SAKE 


era — antiquated  and  futile  as  fainting  fits.  His  was 
merely  the  conventional  tone  for  sympathy  as  he  said: 
"  You  know  how  I  feel  about  your  unhappiness,  mother. 
But  can't  you  put  off  the — the  scandal  until  after  the 
baby  is  born?  You  must  do  it!  The  worry  would — 
You  know  what  the  effect  would  be  on  as  sensitive  a 
child  as  Norma." 

Sophy  had  by  no  means  lost  her  longing  for  free 
dom  ;  nor  had  her  up-piled  resentment  against  Murdock 
lessened.  But  she  felt  she  would  almost  be  willing  to  live 
again  with  him  as  his  wife  rather  than  give  him  license 
for  the  wicked  j  oy s  he  had  planned  for  himself ;  and  her 
jealousy  was  solidly  backed  up  by  her  stubbornness.  To 
release  him  to  a  life  of  happiness  with  another  woman 
was  bad  enough;  to  release  him  under  compulsion  was 
unendurable.  Now,  Joe's  interposition  set  hope  to 
stirring  —  hope  that  she  might  use  him  and  Norma's 
approaching  confinement  to  relax,  perhaps  to  break, 
Murdock's  grip  upon  her  destiny.  But,  as  she  had 
committed  herself  with  Joe,  had  led  him  to  believe 
it  was  she  who  was  eagerly  seeking  divorce,  she  must 
advance  cautiously.  Her  answer  to  his  plea  was  a 
heavy  sigh. 

"  Did  you —  In  the  letter,  did  you  speak  of  the 
divorce?  "  inquired  Joe. 

"  No,"  was  Sophy's  reassuring  reply. 

"  Then  she  needn't — and  mustn't — have  a  suspicion 
a  divorce  is  coming.  I  debated  whether  to  talk  to  you 
first  or  to — to  Mr.  Murdock.  It  seemed  best  to  see  you. 
Now  that  I've  your  consent,  I'm  going  on  to  New  York — 
without  letting  Norma  know  why — and  I  shall  get  Mur 
dock  to  do  his  part.  Thank  you,  mother  dear."  He 
pressed  her  hand  feelingly  between  both  his.  "  Thank 
you.  You  are  so  good,  so  self-sacrificing." 

319 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Sophy,  like  most  women  with  children,  was  used 
to  being  called,  and  to  calling  and  thinking  herself,  self- 
sacrificing.  But  those  who  love  that  role  never  lose 
their  pleasure  in  having  it  acclaimed.  "  I  can't  for 
get  I'm  a  mother,"  said  she,  with  the  sincerity  of  con 
vinced  virtue.  "  You  men  never  understand  a  mother's 
heart." 

She  was  now  seeing  a  way  of  escape  clear  before  her 
• — a  chance  to  be  free  herself,  and  to  substitute  gall  for 
sweetness  in  the  freedom  of  this  husband  who  had  mis 
treated  her  so  shamefully.  Acting  upon  a  hint  in  a 
newspaper  account  of  a  divorce  case  she  had,  just  be 
fore  leaving  New  York,  engaged  the  Mulvihill  Private 
Detective  Agency  tp  "  shadow  "  Murdock.  The  first 
report  on  him  had  been  most  encouraging.  Delay  would 
give  her  detectives  opportunity  to  explore  thoroughly. 
Once  she  had  proofs  of  his  perfidy,  of  Juliet  Raeburn's 
true  character,  not  he  but  she  would  be  arbiter  of  des 
tiny.  The  longer  she  considered  Joe's  interposition  the 
more  patently  providential  it  became.  "  Yes,"  she  said 
to  herself,  "  God  is  still  in  His  Heaven.  *  Though  hand 
join  in  hand,  the  wicked  shall  not  triumph.'  "  Then 
to  Joe :  "  I'll  do  my  part  if  you  get  a  promise  from  him. 
You  are  right ;  Norma  must  have  her  mind  easy  at  this 
time.  If  she's  fretting  and  worrying  it  may  make  the 
child  an  idiot." 

He  had  been  haunted  by  many  dark  and  dire  possi 
bilities  of  disaster  to  his  and  Norma's  hopes  through  the 
scandal;  this  terror,  the  most  hideous  of  all,  was  new. 
Suppose  his  wife  were  to  die,  and  the  child  were  to  live, 
an  idiot !  "  I  think  I'll  go  to  New  York  this  very  even 
ing,"  cried  he,  sweat  beading  his  forehead.  "  My  God, 
it  is  frightful!" 

"  Now,  you've  got  some  idea  what  Fve  suffered  from 
320 


FOR   NORM  A9  S   SAKE 


him,"  said  she.  "  For  it's  all  my  fault.  Everybody  here 
knows  there  never  was  a  patienter  wife  or  a  more  sacri 
ficing  mother  than  I've  been." 

Degarmo  telegraphed  Murdock,  and  they  met  at  the 
University  Club  the  next  evening.  He  had  not  had  time 
to  change  from  traveling  clothes ;  Murdock  was  not  only 
in  evening  dress,  but  also  in  evening  dress  of  a  quality 
that  impressed  Joe,  expert  at  such  matters.  In  all  those 
small  details,  so  important  in  fashionable  dress  for  men, 
Murdock  was  perfection,  the  best  of  London  combined 
with  the  best  of  Paris.  Joe  was  profoundly  concerned 
about  Norma,  regarded  his  mission  as  an  issue  of  life 
and  death;  yet,  so  sacred  were  appearances  to  him,  he 
began  with  a  rambling,  confused  apology  for  his  tweeds. 
Murdock,  never  resigned  in  the  presence  of  folly,  and  in 
those  days  extremely  irritable,  cut  his  son-in-law  short 
with,  "  Did  you  come  from  Saint  X  to  see  me  about  your 
clothes?" 

"  No,"  said  Joe,  instantly  responding  to  the  curb. 
"  I  came  about  the  divorce." 

Murdock  frowned  imperiously. 

"  Don't  imagine  I'm  impertinent  enough  to  interfere 
in  matters  that  don't  concern  me,"  Degarmo  hastened 
to  say.  "  But — have  you  thought  of  Norma  ?  She  is 
to  become  a  mother  within  the  next  four  months." 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  Murdock.  But  his  expression  re 
mained  unreadable. 

"  She  doesn't  dream  you  and  her  mother  are  thinking 
of  divorce.  All  she  knows  is  there's  trouble  between  you 
— estrangement.  Murdock,  I  want  to  ask  you " 

"  I  understand,"  said  Murdock,  in  a  tone  that  for 
bade  him  to  finish. 

"  I  put  that  same  question  to  Mrs.  Murdock " 

321 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW* 

Into  Murdock's  face  and  out  again  flitted  a  smile, 
satiric,  contemptuous. 

"  And  she  says  she's  willing  to  wait  if  you  are." 

A  long  silence,  Joe  watching  his  face  anxiously  but 
in  vain.  He  might  as  well  have  watched  the  dead-white 
expanse  of  his  shirt  front. 

"  The  child  might  be  an  idiot.  Norma  might — 
might " 

"  I  understand,"  interjected  Murdock. 

Five  minutes,  ten  minutes,  passed — a  quarter  of  an 
hour;  and  still  there  was  no  abatement  of  his  will's 
struggle  against  deviating  from  any  purpose  it  had 
fixed.  His  will  was  Murdock's  master,  and  never  had  it 
turned  aside  because  of  consequences.  The  suggestion 
of  deviating  conjured  forebodings  of  disaster;  for  he 
knew  fate  is  only  too  eager  to  make  playthings  of  those 
who  yield  in  the  smallest  degree  to  its  insidious  tempta 
tions  to  swerve.  And  Degarmo  was  asking  a  delay  of 
six  months,  perhaps  a  year;  and  when  that  period  was 
ended,  there  would  be  some  fresh  equally  imperative  rea 
son  for  further  delay.  Delay  always  breeds  delay 

"  Let  us  dine,"  he  said. 

"  I  can't  until  I  have  your  answer." 

"  I  will  give  you  my  answer  to-morrow." 

Degarmo,  cowed  and  insignificant  though  he  felt 
before  Murdock,  could  scarcely  refrain  from  bursting 
j  out  in  denunciation  of  such  hardness  of  heart.  He 
watched  Murdock  furtively,  horror  surging  up  in  him. 
"  He  is  a  brute,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  No  wonder 
men  fear  him  and  obey  him.  So  this  is  what  *  success  ' 
makes  of  a  man."  And  he  exclaimed  aloud :  "  My  God, 
Murdock!  Don't  you  realize  your  daughter  is  at 
stake?" 

The  eyes  that  turned  upon  Degarmo  withered  his 


FOE   NORMALS   SAKE 


hatred  and  horror.  "  You  don't  know  what  you're 
talking  about,"  Murdock  said,  his  cold,  slow  voice  in 
strange  contrast  to  his  eyes.  "  There  are  other  con 
siderations  besides  Norma.  I  never  give  a  decision  in 
an  important  matter  the  same  day."  He  rose  from  the 
sofa,  threw  away  his  cigarette.  "  Let  us  dine." 

"  But  Murdock " 

"  I  wish  to  hear  no  more." 

It  was  a  silent  dinner,  and  afterwards  they  went 
to  Healey's,  Murdock  playing  and  winning  heavily, 
Degarmo  merely  looking  on,  as  when  he  married  he 
made  a  resolution  not  to  play  again  in  a  gambling 
house  on  the  American  side  of  the  Atlantic.  At  break 
fast  next  morning,  each  showed  plainly  that  he  had 
passed  the  time  of  life  when  a  dash  of  cold  water  drives 
away  the  traces  of  lost  sleep.  Joe  knew  he  was  wrin 
kled  and  haggard ;  he  saw  that  Murdock  merely  looked 
weary.  But  he  consoled  himself  by  noting  the  profuse 
sprinkle  of  gray  in  Murdock's  thick,  fair  hair. 

"  When  do  you  expect  the  child  ?  "  asked  Murdock. 

"  In  four  months." 

"  In  six  months  from  now  the  proceedings  will  be 
resumed.  You  will  hear  no  more  of  it  until  then." 

"  Thank  you " 

Murdock  dammed  the  impending  flood  with  a  look. 
Stronger  even  than  Degarmo's  sense  of  catastrophe 
averted,  was  his  awe  of  the  man  before  him — this  slave 
of  an  inflexible  will  with  its  relentless  purposes.  "  How 
can  a  monster  and  a  man  contrive  to  live  in  the  same 
body,  without  either  destroying  the  other  ?  "  thought 
Joe.  And  then  he  forgot  all  about  it,  and,  for  the 
time,  about  Norma,  in  observing  the  details  of  Mur 
dock's  dress — a  strikingly  good  pattern  of  cheviot,  cut 
in  a  new  way,  a  strange  silk  scarf  of  a  new  pattern, 

323 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

and  so  on,  and  so  on.  Presently  curiosity  got  the  bet 
ter  of  manners.  "  I  say,  old  man,"  he  asked,  "  where 
did  you  get  that  suit — and  that  tie — and  that  shirt  ?  " 
And  Murdock  said  to  himself,  "  How  is  it  possible  for 
Joe  the  shallow  fool  about  clothes  and  society,  and  Joe 
t}ie  decent  and  fond  where  Norma  is  concerned,  to  be 
parts  of  the  same  person?" 


XXIII 

MR.    BLAGDEN    BESTIRS    HIMSELF 

BENT  only  on  insuring  Norma's  peace  of  mind,  Joe 
so  reported  his  interview  with  Murdock  to  Sophy  that 
she,  like  most  drifters,  a  roseate  optimist,  decided  the 
divorce  was  as  good  as  abandoned.  She  ordered  her 
lawyer,  Graves,  to  discontinue  the  expensive  service  of 
the  detective  agency;  and,  at  home  again,  and  with 
no  one  behind  her  to  push  and  encourage  and  applaud, 
and  comfortably  settled  in  the  old  rut  of  novels,  fancy- 
work  and  three  "  square "  meals  she  began  to  shed 
the  ideas  Blagden  had  sown  and  New  York  had  wa 
tered,  as  the  desert  sheds  heat  and  grows  cold  when 
the  sun  sets.  Soon,  about  all  that  remained  of  the 
rigid  beauty  regimen  was  Katy's  energetic  massage 
twice  a  day;  and  she  persisted  in  this,  not  because  it 
was  good  for  her,  keeping  the  contour  she  had  re 
gained,  and  to  a  certain  extent  holding  her  flesh  down, 
but  because  she  liked  the  soothing  sensation  of  Katy's 
dexterous  fingers.  Like  most  of  us,  Sophy  was  simply 
a  creature  of  surroundings,  passive,  ready  to  advance 
if  there  were  stimulus,  equally  ready  to  retrograde  if 
there  were  not.  Those  who  condemn  her  might  prof 
itably  consider  whether  they  owe  their  graces  of  per 
son  and  character  to  their  surroundings  or  to  their 
own  unaided  efforts. 

Presently  she  resumed  the  service  of  the  Mulvihill 
325 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Detective  Bureau.  "  It's  dreadfully  dear,"  reasoned 
she,  "  but  if  he  ever  does  make  trouble  I  ought  to  be 
good  and  ready." 

The  universe's  chain  of  causes  and  effects  is  never 
broken;  no  action  is  without  a  cause.  Often,  indeed 
usually,  there  are  many  motives  for  any  human  action ; 
usually,  there  is  one  that  is  the  impelling  motive — and 
rarely  is  it  the  one  ascribed  either  by  others  or  by  one 
self.  Prudence  undoubtedly  figured  among  Sophy's 
reasons  for  resuming  the  shadowing  of  her  husband 
and  Juliet  Raeburn ;  but  it  was  not  the  impelling  rea 
son.  She  began  again  because,  after  the  excitement 
of  New  York,  which  makes  a  business  of  providing 
amusement  for  those  incapable  of  amusing  themselves, 
Saint  X  was  dull  and  tedious.  Sophy  might  have 
occupied  herself  with  the  preparations  for  her  coming 
grandchild;  but  that  called  for  exertion,  more  exertion 
even  than  looking  after  her  own  neglected  person  and 
household.  The  regular  twice-a-week  reports  on  Mur- 
dock  and  "  that  bad  woman  "  were  exciting  in  them 
selves,  more  exciting  than  the  best  play,  cost  her  no 
effort,  gave  her  subject  for  thought,  for  vague,  va 
porous,  endless  speculation  such  as  purposeless  people 
delight  in.  The  private  detective  agency  knows  its 
feminine  clients,  sees  to  it  that  the  reports  they  receive 
stimulate  curiosity  and  create  an  appetite  for  more 
and  more  of  the  same  food;  the  writing  of  artistic 
reports  is  the  chief  part  of  the  task  of  the  private  de 
tectives.  Graves  re-engaged  the  agency;  and,  warned 
by  the  discontinuance,  it  proceeded  to  make  itself  in 
dispensable. 

Twice  a  week  she  had  before  her  two  voluminous 
reports — a  minute  account  of  the  movements  of  her 
husband,  an  even  more  minute  account  of  Juliet  Rae- 


MR.  BLAGDEN  BESTIRS  HIMSELF, 

burn.  She  was  paying  for  but  one  "  operative  "  to; 
watch  Murdock;  two  were  required  for  Miss  Raeburn, 
one  a  woman  apparently  in  the  employ  of  Dangerfield's 
in  some  capacity  that  gave  her  access  to  the  waste- 
basket  in  Miss  Raeburn's  private  office.  All  three  op 
eratives,  with  a  persistence  that  might  have  raised  a 
suspicion  of  collusion  and  fraud  in  a  less  unsophisti 
cated  mind,  agreed  in  pointing  toward  a  connecting 
mystery  in  the  ostentatiously  separate  lives  of  Murdock 
and  Juliet  Raeburn.  Each  operative  in  turn  was  just 
about  to  solve  this  mystery;  thus,  their  reports  gave 
her  powerful  doses  of  that  delightful  stimulant  of  sus 
pended  sensational  interest  which  makes  the  story-paper 
serial  so  welcome  wherever  it  goes.  Sophy  felt  she  knew, 
what  this  mystery  was — where  "  M."  and  "  Miss  R." 
were  when  each,  about  the  same  hour  on  the  same  dayj 
or  evening,  succeeded  in  throwing  her  detectives  off  the 
scent.  "  And  they'll  catch  them,  sure !  "  she  exclaimed, 
eyes  flashing  in  anticipation  of  triumph.  What 
stronger  moral  confirmation  of  their  intrigue  could  she 
have  had  than  those  reports  from  two,  practically 
three,  independent  sources,  showing  simultaneous  de 
sire  to  hide  ?  "  And  I'll  soon  get  the  legal  proof. 
Then — let  him  look  out!  I'll  bring  him  to  his  knees 
and  drive  her  out  of  New  York."  It  was  one  of  her 
dreams,  as  she  sat  with  her  fancy  work,  to  stand  in 
front  of  Dangerfield's  and  see  it  dismantled  and  to  let. 
Murdock's  monthly  deposit  to  her  credit  had  al 
ways  been  liberal.  In  the  days  before  the  open  es 
trangement,  he  had  often  suggested  increasing  it,  and 
she  had  refused.  When  all  he  had  was  freely  at  her 
command,  in  the  old,  easy-going  American  fashion, 
why  trouble  herself  with  money  she  did  not  need?  Im 
mediately  after  the  open  breach,  he  of  his  own  motion 

327 


OLD    WIVES  FOB   NEW. 

doubled  the  monthly  allowance.  Not  until  the  heavy 
charges  for  detectives  began  did  she  give  the  money 
relations  between  him  and  her  a  conscious  thought. 
Then,  however,  step  by  step,  she  moved — or  rather  was 
moved — into  the  point  of  view  where  she  regarded  her 
self  as  unjustly  placed  by  him  in  the  position  of  pen 
sioner  upon  his  niggard  bounty.  "  This  is  my  re 
ward,"  said  she  to  herself  bitterly,  "  for  not  having 
been  a  wheedler  and  a  grabber  like  other  wives  of  men 
of  means."  She  observed  that  several  of  her  friends 
among  the  married  women  were  rich  in  their  own  right. 
*'  Florence  Berkeley,  for  instance,  could  live  well  on 
the  income  of  what  she  could  realize  from  her  jewelry 
• — not  to  speak  of  that  big  block  of  stores  and  flats 
they  say  he  has  just  settled  on  her.  But  what  have  I 
got?  Nothing!  What  has  he  given  me?  Only  a  lit 
tle  jewelry — hardly  enough  to  keep  me  five  years,  ex 
cept  in  the  poorest,  stingiest  way.  I  ought  to  have 
had  more  sense." 

But  immediately  she  was  transferring  the  blame  to 
him.  "  He  wouldn't  have  waited  for  me  to  ask  for 
things  if  he  had  been  really  decent.  He  has  taken  ad 
vantage  of  my  easy,  good-natured  ways.  That's  been 
the  whole  trouble — my  unsuspicious  nature.  I  never 
dreamed  what  a  heart  he  had.  No  wonder  he  was  al 
ways  so  secretive  and  distant."  Nor  was  her  condem 
nation  of  him  mitigated  by  reflecting  on  the  reason 
she  did  not  now  ask  an  increase  of  the  allowance — her 
fear  lest  he  somehow  should  discover  her  guilty  secret. 

And  he  would  have  discovered  it  but  for  Blagden. 

One  afternoon  Blagden,  in  Murdock's  outer  office 
downtown  in  New  York,  saw  before  him  a  stocky  dis 
sipated-looking  man,  with  greasy,  kinky  gray  hair, 
drooping  iron-gray  mustache.  He  had  the  shady,  fur- 

328 


MR.   BLAGDEN   BESTIRS   HIMSELF 

tive-brazen  air  of  those  who  live  by  divers  gainful  oc 
cupations  not  yet  recognized  as  legitimate,  rapidly 
though  we  have  been  extending  the  mantle  of  respecta 
bility  over  all  who  live  well  without  work — withdraw-* 
ing  it  as  rapidly  from  the  mutton  heads  who  still  adhere 
to  the  slow  and  painful  and  comparatively  unremunera- 
tive  methods  of  honest  toil.  "  My  name  is  Mr.  Nooj 
nan,"  said  the  greasy-gray  furtive  man,  producing  an 
enormous  seedy  pocketbook  bulging  with  thumbed  and 
frayed  papers.  From  it  he  extracted  a  printed  card 
which  he  handed  to  Blagden. 

"  Thomas  K.  Noonan,"  Blagden  read.  "  With  the 
Fidelity  Detective  Agency."  Blagden  lifted  his  eyes 
from  the  card  to  the  hard,  corrugated  countenance. 
"Well?"  said  he,  concentrating  an  insultingly  suspi 
cious  look  upon  Mr.  Noonan's  spongy,  brick-red  nose. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  boss  on  very  particular  busi 
ness." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  don't  deal  with  understrappers.  Tell  him  I've 
come  about  his  being  shadowed." 

Blagden  went  through  the  several  offices  between 
the  outer  room  and  the  place  where  Murdock  was  se 
cluded  in  solitary  quiet.  Murdock  listened  indifferent 
ly.  "  I  care  nothing  about  it,"  said  he.  "  I'll  not  see 
him.  Let  him  talk  to  you  or  get  out,  as  he  pleases." 

When  Blagden  returned  with  this  message,  Noonan 
accepted  it  as  the  expected.  "  Go  tell  him,"  said  he, 
"  that  both  he  and  the  lady  are  being  surveilled  for  a 
third  party,  and  that  I  can  put  him  wise." 

Blagden  dropped  his  gaze  to  conceal  suddenly  flam 
ing  interest.  "  I'll  see,"  he  said,  and  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  Murdock.  But  after  waiting  a  mo 
ment  or  so  out  of  sight  of  the  detective  he  returned. 
22  329 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

His  color  was  high,  and  he  did  not  meet  Noonan's  hard 
bright  eyes  as  he  said :  "  He  won't  see  you.  But,  as  I 
explained  to  you,  I  have  charge  of  his  private  affairs. 
He  has  no  secrets  from  me." 

Noonan  eyed  him  for  some  time  in  silence.  "  Is 
there  a  place  where  we  can  talk  private  ?  "  he  asked  at 
length. 

Like  all  the  adepts  in  the  mysteries  of  high  finance, 
Murdock  had  attached  to  his  offices  a  series  of  small 
withdrawing  rooms,  "  sweat  boxes  "  as  they  are  called, 
with  exits  in  various  directions,  so  that  there  might 
be  every  sort  of  comings  and  goings  without  attract 
ing  any  more  public  attention  than  the  stealthy  move 
ments  of  criminals  in  and  out  of  their  dens.  Blagden 
led  Noonan  into  one  of  these  sweat  boxes,  and  closed 
the  door.  They  sat ;  so  small  was  the  room  that  their 
knees  touched,  and  the  air  was  instantly  heavy  with  the 
fumes  of  stale  tobacco  and  whisky  from  the  saturated 
person  of  the  detective. 

"  An  old  kick  of  mine — beg  pardon — side  partner, 
who  drinks  a  bit  too  much  at  times — "  he  began. 

"  You  mean,"  interrupted  Blagden,  "  that  your 
agency  and  another  are  the  same  under  different  names, 
that  you  play  into  each  other's  hands,  that  somebody 
has  hired  the  other  agency  to  shadow  Mr.  Murdock, 
and  you've  come  to  get  a  '  rake-off '  from  him." 

Noonan  grinned.  "  Not  at  all,"  said  he.  "  But 
one  agency  can  see  to  it  that  the  other  gets  throwed 
off  the  track." 

"What  track?" 

Noonan  winked  and  nudged  Blagden's  knee  with 
his. 

"What  track?"  repeated  Blagden,  drawing  his 
knees  out  of  reach. 

330 


MR.   BLAGDEN  BESTIRS   HIMSELF 

Noonan  looked  significantly  at  the  secretary,  ele 
vated  his  hand,  rubbed  its  thumb  over  its  first  and  sec 
ond  fingers. 

"  Not  a  cent,"  said  Blagden,  rising.  "  If  you've 
got  anything  of  value  to  us,  you  know  you'll  be  paid. 
But  we  don't  pay  until  we  inspect  the  goods." 

Noonan  nodded  appreciation.  "  All  right — sit 
down,"  said  he.  "  His  wife  is  shadowing  him  and — • 
the  lady." 

"What  lady?" 

"  Miss  Raeburn,  of  course." 

There  was  a  conscious  pallor  in  Blagden's  cheeks, 
a  shiftiness  in  his  eyes,  as  he  said  curtly :  "  Let  'em 
go  ahead.  We  care  nothing  about  it.  Good  day." 
And  he  held  open  the  door  of  the  sweat  box  that  gave 
into  a  dark,  narrow  passage  and  thence  into  the  main 
hall. 

"  I'm  giving  it  to  you  straight,"  urged  Noonan. 
"  And  your  boss  can  rely  on  us.  My  principals  always 
play  square  with  the  side  that's  got  the  most  money." 

"  It's  of  no  interest  to  us,"  said  Blagden.  "  We 
thought  it  was  another  matter.  Good  day."  And 
Noonan  lingeringly  edged  into  the  passage,  Blagden 
closing  the  door  upon  his  heels. 

As  Murdock  and  Blagden  were  dining  together 
that  evening  Murdock  happened  to  remember  the  visit 
of  the  detective  and  vaguely  wondered  what  the  man 
had  wanted.  He  recalled  Tom  Berkeley's  story  up  in 
the  woods  about  Florence  and  her  detectives.  It  was 
unlikely  that  Sophy  had  had  either  the  "  gumption  " 
or  the  "  get  up  "  to  employ  detectives ;  but  if  she  had, 
she  could  learn  nothing  harmful  to  Juliet.  Even  as 
Berkeley  was  telling  him  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
let  no  temptation  lure  him  to  the  folly  and  the  in- 

331 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

justice  of  compromising  her  in  any  way.  And  when  he 
found  out  that  it  was  she  who  had  shielded  him  from 
death  and  snatched  him  back  to  life,  he  fought  down 
the  longing  to  go  to  her.  More  than  ever  it  was  her 
right  that  her  reputation  be  not  put  in  danger  of 
smirch  through  him.  He  had  tried  writing  to  her. 
But  the  results  sounded  labored,  stilted,  either  too  for 
mal  or  too  florid,  and  he  gave  that  over.  It  was  best 
to  wait.  He  was  daily  strengthened  in  this  resolution, 
so  difficult  for  his  temperament,  by  reading  or  hearing 
of  scandals,  catastrophes  precipitated  by  just  such  im 
patience  and  recklessness  as  were  urging  him.  The 
woman  who  had  beaten  off  death  from  him  when  he  lay 
helpless  would  wait  for  him;  why  risk  anything,  per 
haps  everything,  simply  to  gratify  a  longing  that 
would  not  be  appeased,  but  the  reverse,  by  yielding? 

It  was  with  no  uneasiness  of  mind  and  with  only  the 
mildest  curiosity  that  he  said  to  Blagden,  "  By  the 
way,  did  you  find  out  what  that  detective  wanted  ?  " 
As  he  did  not  look  up  from  his  plate,  he  did  not  note 
how  suddenly  rosy  the  always  ruddy  secretary  grew. 

"  He  didn't  say,"  replied  Blagden,  offhandedly. 
"  Guess  it  was  simply  a  play  for  a  job.  His  smell  still 
hung  in  my  clothes  when  I  took  them  off  to  dress  for 
dinner." 

In  the  woods  Blagden's  treachery  to  his  employer, 
whom  he  sometimes  liked,  sometimes  hated,  always  en 
vied  and  copied,  had  been  by  the  veiled  routes  of  innu 
endo  and  implication.  This  was  the  first  overt  act, 
the  first  lie  direct  and  face  to  face.  He  was  getting 
on,  was  Blagden — was  educating  his  mind  to  be  expert 
and  his  conscience  to  be  placid  when  the  severer  strains 
upon  both  should  come,  as  his  programme  of  chicane 
unfolded.  "  Murdock  really  didn't  want  to  be  an- 

332 


MR.  BLAGDEN  BESTIRS  HIMSELF, 

noyed,"  he  said  to  himself,  composing  his  conscience 
for  sleep  that  night.  "  He's  doing  nothing  that  could 
get  him  into  trouble.  Why,  he  won't  even  dine  or  take 
supper  with  Berkeley  if  there  are  to  be  any  women. 
Then,  too,  it  was  my  duty  as  a  decent  man  to  protect 
that  noble  wife  of  his — at  any  cost." 


XXIV 

AND    MAKES    RAPID    PROGRESS 

Two  months,  to  the  day,  after  Murdock  got  Joe 
Degarmo's  telegram  announcing  the  auspicious  arrival 
of  Joseph  Degarmo  second,  he  said  to  Blagden,  when 
they  had  finished  the  morning's  routine  of  business : 

"  Please  take  the  afternoon  express  for  Saint  X. 
See  Mrs.  Murdock — alone.  Say  to  her,  '  The  time  is 
up.' " 

If  Murdock  had  been  looking  at  his  secretary,  he 
would  have  been  forced  to  wonder  why  his  countenance 
suddenly  lighted,  why  this  curt  and  mysterious  mes 
sage  not  only  was  understood,  but  also  was  hailed 
with  a  delight  so  keen  that  it  could  not  be  concealed. 
After  a  moment's  silent  waiting  Blagden  asked,  "  Is 
that  all?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  to  simply  say,  *  The  time  is  up  '  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Blagden  looked  at  his  chief.  Murdock  was  sitting 
in  the  peculiar,  motionless,  rigid  attitude  he  sometimes 
took,  an  attitude  that  suggested  one  waiting  for  the 
shock  of  the  assault,  ready  to  receive  it,  certain  to  repel 
it.  He  seemed  almost  a  youth  at  the  first  glance;  yet 
there  was  in  him — Blagden  sometimes  thought  it  was 
in  the  eyes,  again  in  the  chin,  again  in  the  bulge  of 
brow,  or  perhaps  the  set  of  the  head  upon  the  shoulders 

334 


AND  MAKES  RAPID   PROGRESS 

— a  fixedness,  a  concentration  that  was  at  the  opposite 
extreme  from  youth's  reckless,  aimless  prodigality  of 
time  and  strength.  To-day  that  expression  terri 
fied  the  secretary  as  it  had  terrified  Joe  Degarmo. 
66  If  he  should  ever  find  me  in  his  path ! "  he  muttered. 
A  feeling  of  chill  started  somewhere  away  down  in  the 
center  of  his  body,  slowly  spread,  grew  intenser,  until 
he  was  cold  from  vitals  to  skin,  was  shaking  so  violently 
that  he  was  afraid  Murdock  would  see  his  jaws  chat 
tering. 

At  the  Eyrie  he  found  neglect  bordering  on  desola 
tion.  The  hedges  were  undipped  and  dust-stained. 
Lawns,  gardens,  walks,  and  drives  looked  worse  for 
slovenly  attention  than  if  they  had  had  no  attention  at 
all.  Within  the  house,  disorder  and  dust.  "  Poor  wom 
an  !  "  thought  Blagden.  "  She  has  no  heart  for  any 
thing."  And  his  own  heart  grew  heavy  with  the  sympa 
thetic  sorrow  we  can  so  readily  summon  for  those  whose 
lives  touch  ours  only  casually  and  whose  weaknesses  and 
shortcomings  inconvenience  us  not  at  all.  He  was  pre 
pared  to  see  a  very  Lady  of  Woe;  he  was,  therefore, 
moved  to  admiration  by  the  bravery  of  soul  shown  in 
the  placid  exterior  presently  appearing  at  the  drawing- 
room  door.  Sophy  looked  somewhat  better  than  she  had 
formerly  at  Saint  X,  even  at  her  best  "  company  best," 
but  not  nearly  so  well  as  during  her  stay  in  New  York. 
The  warmth  of  her  greeting  thrilled  him.  The  truth  was, 
in  her  mind  he  had  gone  the  way  of  the  ideas  and  impulses 
he  stimulated ;  he  had  grown  hazy  to  her,  for  people  of 
impulse  without  persistence  soon  lose  distinct  memory 
of  whoever  and  whatever  is  not  immediately  before  them. 
But  now  that  he  was  again  before  her  all  that  had  been 
came  flooding  back;  and  she  honestly  felt  that  she  was 
speaking  the  truth  as  she  said  with  her  sweet,  whole- 

335 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 


souled  smile :  "  I  think  so  often  how  good  and  kind  you 
were  to  me  during  those  trying  days  up  there.  Is — is 
Mr.  Murdock  coming  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Blagden.  "  He  sent  me  with  a  mes 
sage  to  you." 

Mrs.  Murdock  shrank. 

"  A  message  you'll  be  very  glad  to  get,"  he  went  on. 
They  were  in  her  sitting  room.  He  rose  and  closed  the 
door  into  the  hall.  "  I  remembered  our  talks  together, 
and  when  he  said,  *  Tell  her  the  time  is  up,'  I  knew  I  was 
carrying  you  your  freedom." 

"  Yes,"  said  Sophy  faintly.  And  only  that  day  she 
had  been  thinking  she  would  hear  no  more  of  his  attempt 
to  marry  again,  had  been  thinking  he  must  be  tiring  of 
his  dressmaker —  "  No  man  ever  respects  a  woman  who 
gives  up  to  him  that  way,  and  a  man  doesn't  make  a 
wife  of  a  woman  he  doesn't  respect."  Having  no  fixity 
of  purpose  within  herself  for  comparison,  she  not  only; 
did  not  understand  it  in  another,  but  did  not  believe  in 
its  existence. 

Blagden  saw  that,  for  some  reason  or  other,  his  news 
was  the  reverse  of  welcome,  that  it  had  overwhelmed  her. 
But  it  was  his  cue  to  ignore  this,  to  continue  to  assume 
she  was  impatiently  longing  for  freedom.  "  A  few 
months  more,  that  will  quickly  pass,  and  your  troubles 
will  all  be  over,"  said  he  encouragingly.  "  Perhaps  I 
shouldn't  say  so,  occupying  the  position  I  do,  but  I  have 
thought  every  day  of  the  heavy  burden  you  were  carry 
ing,  and  my  heart  has  ached  for  you." 

Sophy's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  It's  a  wonder  it 
doesn't  age  me,"  cried  she.  A  year  before,  she  would 
have  wailed  that  it  had  aged  her. 

"  If  anything,  you  look  younger  than  when  I  last 
saw  you,"  said  Blagden,  full  as  much  genuineness  as  flat- 

336 


AND   MAKES   RAPID   PROGRESS 

tery  in  the  admiring  glance  he  boldly  gave.  The  flow 
ing  negligee  flung  a  friendly  grace  over  her  too  loosely 
corseted  form,  was  most  kind  to  her  real  charms — her 
satin-smooth  fair  skin,  her  shapely  head,  her  glorious 
eyes.  And,  though  she  had  been  neglecting  Secor's  pre 
scription  for  the  contour,  the  former  heaviness  of  the 
lower  part  of  the  face  had  not  yet  returned.  Besides, 
she  was  neater,  had  not  abandoned  the  habit  of  bathing 
before  dressing,  and  of  regularly  washing  the  hair ;  and 
there  were  the  eyes,  the  incomparable  nose,  those  beauti 
ful,  luxury-loving,  luxury-suggesting  hands.  Blagden 
had  no  need  to  strain  his  imagination;  and  while  the 
amplitude  of  her  person  might  have  offended  his  acquired 
taste,  had  he  indulged  his  critical  faculties,  it  appealed 
to  and  stimulated  an  emotion  far  stronger  than  taste 
imposed  by  fashion. 

Before  his  worshipful  incense  Sophy  revived,  expand 
ed  in  soul,  felt  the  yearning  to  confide  and  to  lean.  "  I 
trust  you,"  said  she.  "  You  are  the  only  one  I  do  trust. 
In  New  York  last  fall  when — that  is,  when  he  thought 
I  wasn't  as  eager  for  the  divorce  as  I  had  been —  You 
know,  Mr.  Blagden,  I  have  religious  scruples  that  I'm 
finding  it  hard  to  conquer — then,  too,  perhaps  he  only 
said  it  to  frighten  me  from  the  divorce — "  Sophy  was 
red,  was  stammering,  as  she  poured  out  these  confused 
sentences,  for  she  was  not  experienced  in  willful  mis- 
statement  of  the  truth —  "  Anyhow,  you  can't  im 
agine  the  brutality  of  his  treatment.  He  said  if  I 
didn't  get  the  divorce,  he  would  impoverish  me — stop 
my  income." 

Blagden  started  up  indignantly.  "  Incredible !  "  he 
exclaimed,  eagerly  seizing  the  opportunity  to  put  his 
conduct  in  a  better  light  with  himself.  "  Why,  you've 
as  much  right  to  the  fortune  as  he  has !  Without  you, 

337 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

where  would  he  have  been?  .  .  .  Pardon  me  for  saying 
these  things — they  seem  disloyal.     But  I  am  human." 

Sophy  pressed  his  arm  gratefully.  "  Thank  you," 
said  she,  all  in  a  glow  at  finding  some  one  who  had 
fathomed  the  obscured  but  essential  truth  of  her  im 
portance  as  a  factor  in  the  making  of  Murdock's  career. 
"  You  are  not  disloyal.  You  are  simply  an  honest  man. 
But  his  threat  worried  me.  I  consulted  a  lawyer — not 
the  lawyer  he  imposed  on  me,  that  Bailby,  but  dear  old 
Mr.  Graves,  our  family  lawyer — up  home,  where  I  come 
from  originally.  And  he  assured  me  I  need  have  no 
fears." 

"  I  suspect  Mr.  Graves,  being  old-fashioned,  doesn't 
appreciate  the  power  nowadays  of  such  men  as  Mr.  Mur- 
dock,"  replied  Blagden,  looking  grave.  "  If  he  wished 
to  do  such  a  dastardly  thing,  he  could  do  it.  Mind  you, 
I  say, '  if  he  wished  to  do  it.' ' 

"  I  can't  believe  it!  There  is  such  a  thing  as  jus 
tice!" 

Blagden  shook  his  head  sadly.  "  Not  for  ordinary 
mortals,  against  such  men  as  Mr.  Murdock." 

"  I'm  sure  Mr.  Graves  would  not  mislead  me,"  cried 
she,  irritated  against  Blagden. 

He  had  rather  anticipated  the  fate  of  the  bearer  of 
bad  news  to  unreasonable,  capricious  woman,  and  was 
prepared  to  resist  and  insist.  He  put  apologetic  gen 
tleness  into  his  manner  and  voice,  but  not  into  his  words. 
"  Granting  that  the  courts  would  allow  you  something 
.  .  .  and  that  you  could  collect  it  ...  making  the  fight 
each  time  all  over  again  .  .  .  still,  how  much  would  it 
be?  Why,  at  most  hardly  enough  to  keep  up  a  place  like 
this.  You'd  have  to  cut  down  your  expenditures,  and 
everybody  would  know  about  your  changed  condition. 
And  you'd  still  be  his  dependent." 

338 


AND   MAKES   RAPID   PROGRESS 

Sophy  was  listening,  sour  but  attentive.  "  I'm  so 
glad  I  talked  of  this  to  you,"  said  she,  in  the  tone  in 
which  one  doles  out  reluctant  justice. 

"  You  see,  your  best  interest  is  where  your  inclina 
tion  leads,"  he  went  on.  "  If  you  pursue  your  original 
plan,  you  will  be  free,  you  will  be  independent,  you  will 
have  a  fortune.  You  will  have  power — happiness — 
everything !  " 

"  But — "  began  Sophy.  And  there  she  stopped. 
How  tell  him  she  did  not  wish  to  enable  "  that  woman  " 
to  triumph,  yet  not  give  him  the  impression  of  a  vulgar, 
carnal  jealousy?  "  The  only  thing  that  makes  me  hesi 
tate,"  said  she,  feeling  her  way,  "  is — aside  from  the 
scandal — and  my  religion —  That  is  a  very  deep  feel 
ing  with  me,  Mr.  Blagden." 

"  I  appreciate  that,"  murmured  Blagden.  He 
thought  religion  a  fine  trait  in  a  woman,  like  many  other 
virtues  which  he  regarded  as  ridiculous,  not  to  say  im 
becile,  in  a  man. 

"  I  was  brought  up  to  believe — and  I  do  believe !  " 
Sophy  uttered  this  as  defiantly  as  if  it  were  being  vigor 
ously  disputed.  "Without  a  higher  power  sustaining  me, 
I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  me.  But,  as 
I  was  saying — and  it  grows  out  of  my  religious  feeling, 
too — I  sometimes  feel  it  isn't  right  for  me  to  release 
him,  and  let  him  perhaps  marry  that  bad  woman." 

"  Why  should  you  think  he'd  marry  her  ?  "  said  he. 
Then,  with  an  intonation  for  which  he  despised  himself, 
he  added,  "  Why  should  he?  " 

"Why,  indeed?"  echoed  Sophy. 

"  When  he  is  free  and  doesn't  marry  her,  you  will 
have  put  on  her  the  greatest  humiliation  possible." 

Sophy  was  delighted;  she  had  not  thought  of  this. 
"  If  I  could  be  sure  he  wouldn't !  " 

339 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Blagden  smiled  meaningly.  "  I  can  assure  you  he 
won't."  He  pretended  to  hesitate  before  saying,  "  I 
know  he's  not  been  seeing — her  these  last  few  months." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  has,"  cried  Sophy.  She  halted,  decided 
for  giving  him  her  whole  confidence.  "  I  have  means  of 
knowing.  I  engaged  detectives."  Defiantly,  "  I  know 
it  sounds  badly,  but  I  simply  had  to  protect  myself." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Blagden,  with  the  utmost  hearti 
ness.  "  Did  your  detectives  tell  you  he  was  seeing  her  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,  but  practically.  I  had  them  both 
watched,  and  they'd  both  disappear  at  about  the  same 
time." 

"  That  does  look  like  it,"  admitted  Blagden.  "But — 
You  mustn't  ask  me  any  questions  about  what  I'm  going 
to  say.  Mrs.  Murdock,  I  know  where  he  was  at  some — 
many — of  those  times." 

She  winced,  flushed.  Then  it  came  to  her,  making 
her  radiant,  that  through  these  other  women  her  tri 
umph  over  Juliet  Raeburn  had  already  begun.  Also, 
while  the  wife  who  is  discarded  for  a  woman  is  pitied  and 
scorned,  she  who  is  discarded  for  women  is  congratulated 
on  being  well  rid  of  a  beast.  "  So !  There  are  other 
women  ?  "  inquired  she. 

Blagden  glanced  away.    "  I  did  not  say  so." 

"  And  that's  why  you  say  he  won't  marry  her." 

Blagden  made  no  reply. 

Sophy  reflected  long.  Thanks  to  his  impulsive  hints 
and  sensible  advice,  her  right  course  lay  clear  and  easy 
before  her.  After  all,  freedom  with  wealth  that  was  her 
very  own  would  be  best ;  and  how  could  morality  demand 
that  she  remain  linked  to  a  loose,  a  promiscuous  char 
acter?  Why,  decency  forbade  it.  "  Sooner  or  later,  if 
I  remain  his  wife,"  she  reflected,  "  he'll  be  exposed  in 
some  low,  dreadful  scandal.  Yes,  I  must  clear  my  skirts 

340 


AND   MAKES   RAPID   PROGRESS 

of  him.  I've  done  my  best.  *  He  that  is  filthy,  let  him 
be  filthy  still.'  And  he  won't  marry  her — never !  He's 
not  that  big  a  fool — to  give  her  a  wife's  power  over  his 
pocketbook.  No,  he'll  keep  her  where  he  can  hold  the  bit 
on  her — if  he  doesn't  get  tired  and  throw  her  over  en 
tirely.  Probably  he's  trying  to  get  rid  of  her,  even 
now." 

Blagden  did  not  interrupt  her  reflections;  he  read 
in  her  face  how  favorable  to  his  plans  they  were.  In 
stead,  he  went  to  the  window  and  pretended  to  inspect  the 
view.  When  he  did  speak,  it  was  to  say,  "  I  am  going 
to  resign  from  Mr.  Murdock's  service." 

"  Oh,  no — not  on  my  account,"  protested  Sophy,  in 
alarm,  feeling  that  if  he  left  she  would  have  lost  her 
mainstay.  "  I  understand  how  it  is.  I  don't  blame  you 
— not  in  the  least.  You  must  make  your  career." 

"  I've  not  been  staying  on  with  him  for  that  reason. 
I've  done  it  simply  for  the  experience.  You  see,  my  rela 
tives  haven't  at  all  fancied  my  being  in  such  a  position. 
They've  got  a  kind  of  foolish  pride.  They  seem  to  think 
something  is  due  them  simply  because  they've  lived  in 
New  York  always  and  been  at  the  front  socially.  I  don't 
care  for  that  sort  of  thing  myself,  but  they  want  me 
to  live  on  my  little  private  income  and  make  a  social  ca 
reer.  You  know,  my  uncles  and  aunts  are —  But  what's 
the  use  of  talking  that  nonsense?  As  I  was  about  to 
say,  I've  had  enough  experience  of  finance,  and —  Well, 
'Mrs.  Murdock,  I'd  have  resigned  long  ago  if  it  hadn't 
been — "  He  paused,  reddened  ingenuously,  blurted 
out —  "  Well — I  thought  I  might  be  able  to  help  you 
if  I  stayed  on." 

He  put  into  tone  and  manner  what  he  would  not  have 
dared  put  into  the  words — a  discreet  but  distinct  avowal 
of  love — the  worshipful  love  of  moth  for  star — the 

341 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

chivalrous  devotion  of  knight  for  lady  whom  it  is  joy 
enough  just  to  serve,  without  expectation  or  hope  of 
reward. 

Conventionality  and  morality  protested  in  vain ;  it 
is  not  in  human  nature  to  be  profoundly  shocked,  or  not 
to  be  flattered,  by  a  respectful  avowal  of  love.  The  pink 
stole  into  Sophy's  cheeks,  and  her  handsome  eyes  became 
handsomer  than  ever.  "  You  have  helped  me,"  she  said, 
in  about  the  sweetest  tones  of  that  sweet  soft  voice  of 
hers.  "  You  have,  indeed." 

"  That  is  all  I  ask,"  replied  he  humbly.  "  I  am  more 
than  repaid." 

Until  now  she  had  thought  little,  and  that  vague,  of 
his  high  social  position,  of  the  fashionable  family  to 
which  he  belonged.  He  had  been  too  easy,  too  natural, 
too  comfortable  to  get  along  with ;  an  entirely  different 
person  from  her  ideal  of  the  socially  grand  people  of  the 
Eastern  "  smart  set."  All  at  once  he  seemed  a  sort  of 
prince  in  disguise,  one  who  had  descended  from  his  royal 
heritage  to  be  near  her,  to  serve  her,  to  worship  her  in 
silence  and  humility.  She  had  never  especially  noted  his 
appearance  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  a  nice-looking 
man ;  now  she  saw  how  well-dressed  he  was,  what  well-kept 
hands  he  had,  the  evenness  and  whiteness  of  his  teeth. 
She  remembered  that  he  did  not  smoke — she  detested  the 
odor  of  tobacco,  thought  its  use  a  filthy  habit.  She 
hadn't  especially  liked  his  red  hair;  she  now  observed 
what  a  fine,  gentlemanly  skin  went  with  that  hair,  and 
the  hair  itself  seemed  more  golden  than  red.  Her  brave 
knight  was  emerging  from  his  disguise,  full  panoplied 
in  all  the  charms  a  knight  must  have. 

"  But,"  she  went  on,  blushing  and  uncertain  of  voice, 
"  if  you  resign,  I'll  not  see  you  any  more,  and  I  do  need 
your  advice.  Who  can  I  turn  to  ?  " 

342 


rAND   MAKES   RAPID   PROGRESS 

He  glanced  meaningly  at  her,  glanced  away.  "  I 
shall  be  free,"  said  he.  "  As  it  is  now,  I  can't  help  feel 
ing  like  a  sort  of  traitor  whenever  I  tell  you  what's  in 
my  mind.  You  can  always  count  on  me — "  Again  he 
looked  at  her,  lowered  his  eyes,  flushed,  stammered,  "  Al 
ways — always,  my  dear  friend." 

"  I'll  not  forget,"  she  assured  him,  suddenly  nervous 
and  shy,  in  a  way  she  had  not  known  since  girlhood. 
And  he,  seeing  it  and  realizing  he  could  not  advance 
himself  further  by  lingering,  took  leave.  They  both 
blushed  violently  as  their  hands  met  in  a  lingering  clasp ; 
and  both  had  that  glow  of  elation  which  is  only  the 
warmer  for  its  slight  sting  of  guilt. 


XXV 

BUT    CHARLEY    INTERVENES 

LAWYER  BAILBY,  on  a  hint  from  Murdock's  personal 
counsel  Wickham,  waited  upon  Sophy  "  to  pay  my  re 
spects,  Mrs.  Murdock,  and  to  let  you  know  that  if  your 
case  is  to  go  upon  the  present-term  calendar,  my  dear 
Mrs.  Murdock,  it  should  be  prepared  at  once." 

Bailby  was  a  rotund,  rugged-looking  person,  in  loose 
black  clothes,  a  devotee  of  the  fair  sex,  with  a  sympa 
thetic  quiver  in  his  voice  and  a  merry  eye  that  was  yet 
instantly  ready  to  shed  the  quick  tear  of  the  tender 
heart.  In  the  first  few  moments  of  their  interview  Sophy 
was  upset  and  confused,  sullenly  suspicious  of  this  lawyer 
who  had  been  practically  thrust  upon  her,  uncertain 
whether  she  was  glad  or  sorry  at  his  mission.  But  when 
two  such  temperaments  come  together,  suspicion  and 
embarrassment  cannot  long  endure.  Soon  Sophy,  too 
honest  herself  really  to  credit  double-dealing  in  any  hu 
man  being,  was  speedily  unfolding  herself,  luxuriating  in 
the  story  of  her  husband's  coldness  and  neglect.  As  for 
Bailby,  had  he  been  a  bad  man — which  he  was  not — he 
must  have  pledged  his  lance  to  one  who  was  in  his  eyes 
such  a  "  superb  figure  of  a  young  woman,"  whether  he  be 
lieved  her  right  or  wrong.  Being  a  man  of  sentiment, 
and  having  the  keenest  appreciation  how  the  most  dread 
ful  wounds  can  be  made  in  a  sensitive  feminine  soul  by 
words  and  acts  that  might  seem  trivial  to  the  ordinary 

344 


BUT   CHARLEY   INTERVENES 

coarse  male,  Bailby  was  all  tenderness  and  encourage 
ment. 

"  No  man,  dear  madam,"  said  he,  his  prominent  blue 
eyes  swimming,  "  no  man  is  good  enough  for  a  good 
woman." 

"  That's  true,  Mr.  Bailby,"  assented  Sophy.  "  Men 
are  so  coarse." 

"  Coarse — that's  the  very  word.  And  woman's  na 
ture  is  so  fine,  so  different  from  ours." 

"  You  ought  to  marry,  Mr.  Bailby." 

"  I've  never  had  the  courage,  ma'am.  I've  always 
been  afraid  of  what'd  happen  when  Mrs.  B.  found  me 
out.  I've  seen  so  much  of  married  unhappiness.  Your 
case  is  very  sad.  I  can  appreciate  how  your  heart  has 
ached  and  bled.  I  know  I'm  a  man ;  but  I  had  a  mother 
— and  a  father.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  your  case,  hard 
though  it  is,  dear  madam,  is  no  exception.  Oh,  the 
sufferings  of  women !  " 

Sophy  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "  I  don't  want  Mr.  Mur- 
dock  to  be  made  out  a  monster,  you  understand." 

Bailby  raised  his  fat  brown  hand  soothingly.  "  Cer 
tainly  not — certainly  not." 

"  He's  not  that,  you  know." 

"  I  understand — I  understand.  Just  a  man.  And 
you  a  woman  unusually  tender  and  delicate." 

"  I  never  say  anything,"  said  Sophy.  "  But — I 
feel." 

Bailby  shook  his  head  mournfully.  "  I'll  prepare  the 
papers  so  you'll  only  have  to  write  your  name.  You'll 
have  no  trouble  whatever.  We'll  see  to  it  that  your  feel 
ings  are  spared  in  every  way." 

They  parted  warm  friends,  Sophy  almost  in  an 
ecstasy  of  exalted  martyrdom.  He  had  so  whetted  her 
appetite  for  unbosoming,  had  so  loosened  up  her  mind 
23  345 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW. 

on  the  subject  of  her  sorrows  that  she  straightway  sat 
down  and  addressed  herself  to  the  composition  of  a  letter 
to  Charley,  in  prep,  school  in  Massachusetts.  As  she 
was  more  fluent  with  tongue  than  with  pen  she  would 
have  preferred  to  seek  out  Norma.  But  in  those  days 
Joe  was  guarding  Norma  and  the  new-born  with  a  vigi 
lance  that  distrusted  everything  and  everybody.  Also, 
there  was  naturally  a  stronger  bond  of  sympathy  be 
tween  mother  and  son.  Then,  too,  women  never  do  ap 
preciate  women;  for  real,  heart-whole,  generous  sympa 
thy  that  questions  not,  the  sex  line  must  be  crossed.  She 
covered  many  sheets  of  paper  with  reproaches  of  Mur- 
dock  and  lamentations  over  the  ruined  home  in  her  small, 
neat  handwriting.  With  Sophy  grief  was  of  the  or 
dinary  human  variety.  Its  tongue  did  not  cleave  to  the 
roof  of  the  mouth,  neither  was  its  writing  arm  paralyzed. 

"  And  even  yet,"  wrote  she,  to  clinch  her  own  and 
Charley's  conviction  of  the  sincerity  of  her  sorrow,  "  even 
yet,  I  do  believe — I'm  so  weak  and  forgiving — I  do 
believe  I'd  try  to  forgive  him  if  he'd  stop  wasting  money, 
that  ought  to  be  his  children's  some  day,  on  that  New 
York  dressmaker  and  flaunting  his  shame  so  that  we  are 
all  bowed  in  the  dust.  I  pray  for  him  night  and  morn 
ing.  I  can't  forget  that  he's  the  father  of  my  boy  and 
my  girl.  And  this  is  my  reward  for  letting  that  woman 
stay  on  up  there,  just  through  my  soft-heartedness.  I 
don't  regret  doing  it,  but  I  should  think  they'd  be 
ashamed.  I  suppose  they're  so  sunk  in  sin  that  they 
have  no  shame." 

It  was  as  she  was  writing  that  this  last  grievance 
came  to  her.  Theretofore  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  that 
she  had  done  a  generous  act  in  letting  Juliet  stay  on ; 
she  had  simply  done  it,  without  thinking  much  about 
the  whys  and  wherefores.  And  she  forgot  this  additional 

346 


BUT   CHARLEY  INTERVENES 

aspect  of  it  as  soon  as  she  had  dispatched  the  letter; 
in  fact,  she  all  but  dismissed  her  woes,  so  absorbed 
was  her  attention  in  the  matters  of  self-improvement 
that  now  interested  her  more  than  anything  else  in  the 
world. 

Since  the  Adirondacks,  Charley  had  been  taking  a 
much  calmer  view  of  the  family  troubles.  The  divorce 
seemed  the  remotest  of  possibilities,  highly  improbable ; 
so  he  was  able  to  look  at  such  things  more  judicially. 
In  that  fashionable  school  there  were  no  less  than  eight 
boys  whose  parents  had  divorced,  and  three  of  them  lux 
uriated  in  two  sets  of  mothers  and  fathers,  all  liberal 
and  of  the  best  social  position.  Now  that  divorce  had 
ceased  to  be  confined  to  the  common  people,  had  become 
fashionable,  it  might  be  well  for  a  man  of  the  world,  a 
member  of  the  senior  class  at  the  famous  Glaston  Acad 
emy,  to  keep  his  mind  open  on  the  subject.  It  certainly 
did  seem  more  sensible  for  two  who  didn't  get  on  to 
agree  to  let  each  other  alone;  and  since  the  Almighty 
had  so  created  people  that  a  man  needed  a  woman  about 
and  a  woman  a  man,  what  more  natural  than  remar 
riage  ?  "  And  wouldn't  it  really  be  more  moral  for 
father  to  free  himself  and  remarry  than  presently  to 
blossom  out  into  a  middle-aged  or  elderly  cut-up  like 
the  Tom  Berkeley  sort  of  men?  .  .  .  There's  a  lot  of 
rot  talked  about  divorce — but  then,  there's  a  lot  of  rot 
talked  about  a  lot  of  things." 

But  when  his  mother's  letter  came  Charley  switched 
round.  "  A  dressmaker !  "  he  cried ;  for  upon  that  em 
phasized  word  his  attention  caught  and  hung.  In  those 
cultured  Eastern  surroundings  the  young  Westerner  was 
absorbing  the  culture  of  snobbishness  with  a  rapidity  that 
bade  fair  to  put  him  soon  in  the  class  with  the  boys 
from  Boston  and  New  York.  "  A  dressmaker!  "  This 

347 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

was  frightful — nothing  fashionable — nothing  romantic, 
therefore.  A  common,  disgusting  affair  that  would  dis 
grace  him  with  the  boys,  would  cost  him  his  as  yet  none 
too  secure  social  position.  "  A  dressmaker !  "  For  the 
moment  Charley  thrust  aside  the  impression  Juliet  had 
made  upon  him  in  the  North  woods ;  and  that  was  not 
difficult  for  him  to  do,  now  he  had  got  a  less  provincial, 
more  cultured  insight  into  life,  had  grasped  the  great 
truth  that  rank  makes  the  man,  not  man  the  rank.  Juliet 
Raeburn  was  a  dressmaker,  hence  a  common  person,  no 
matter  what  she  might  seem  to  be. 

A  ray  of  light  shot  into  the  gloom.  "  No  doubt 
mother's  right.  No  doubt  he'll  not  marry  her.  No,  he 
couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  He  wouldn't  drag  us 
down  that  low.  Why,  I'd  have  to  leave  school.  I'd 
never  dare  show  up  among  decent  people."  Again  the 
clouds  closed  in ;  for  a  vision  of  Juliet  Raeburn  flashed 
upon  him —  "  She  ain't  that  kind !  Mother's  dead 
wrong.  He'll  have  to  marry  her  to  get  her.  Of  course 
she's  not  exactly  a  lady  now,  as  she  has  to  work  for  a 
living;  but  she's  a  lady  by  birth  and  breeding."  So 
potently  was  Juliet's  spell  reasserting  itself  that  his 
head  began  to  fill  with  excusing,  disloyal  thoughts.  "  I 
mustn't  forget  my  position  as  head  of  the  family,"  he 
hastily  rebuked  himself.  "  Mother  looks  to  me  to  stop 
this  thing,  and  I  must  do  it." 

Charley  always  put  off  thinking  until  he  had  acted. 
He  telegraphed  his  father  that  he  wished  to  see  him  on 
very  important  business,  and  must  have  permission  to 
leave  Glaston  and  come  to  New  York.  The  answer  he 
wished  came  promptly  and  he  set  out.  He  tried  to 
evolve  a  plan  of  campaign  on  the  train;  but  somehow 
the  clatter  of  the  wheels  or  the  people  or  something 
wouldn't  permit  his  mind  to  dispatch  the  problem  as 

348 


BUT   CHARLEY  INTERVENES 

he  had  assumed  it  would.  He  decided  it  was  best  to  trust 
to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment.  "  I'll  lead  him  up 
to  the  question — then  he'll  say  something — and  then 
I'll  open  out  on  him."  It  might  look  rather  dubious 
and  hazy  at  a  distance ;  but  as  soon  as  he  was  face  to 
face  with  his  father  it  would  doubtless  instantly  clear. 

On  the  way  to  the  Gotham  from  the  station  he  began 
to  have  qualms  which  he  could  hardly  keep  from  classify 
ing  themselves  as  fear.  However,  arrived  at  his  father's 
apartment  he  marched  in,  head  high,  shoulders  erect,  face 
haughty.  He  had  arrayed  his  person  to  his  great  sat 
isfaction  in  the  noisiest  of  patterns  made  in  the  extreme 
of  the  latest  style.  Murdock,  at  the  fireplace  with  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  received  him  with  a  smile  of  pleas 
ure  and  kindly  amusement  on  his  handsome  face.  And 
certainly  Charley  was  a  cheerful  and  goodly  sight  to 
see — a  fine,  strong  young  fellow,  with  a  clean  skin  and 
a  clear  eye  and  the  "  upper  class  "  air  of  the  well  fed, 
well  housed,  well  groomed,  who  take  no  thought  for  the 
morrow  or  for  anything  else. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  said  Murdock  heartily. 

The  instant  his  eyes  met  his  father's  he  quailed.  He 
wished  he  had  written  instead  of  coming.  Still,  now  that 
he  was  here,  he  would  not  show  the  white  feather — for 
Charley  was  at  the  age  when  males  are  extremely  nervous 
about  their  courage — an  age  most  males  never  pass. 
66  How  are  you,  sir,"  said  he  boldly. 

"  Did  you  just  want  to  see  New  York,"  inquired 
Murdock,  going  direct  to  the  point  as  always,  "  or  is  it 
some  trouble  you're  in  up  there?  " 

"  Neither,"  replied  the  youth.  He  hesitated,  shot  it 
out.  "  I  got  a  letter  from  mother." 

"  Oh !  "  Murdock's  tone  was  not  formidablq  but 
there  was  in  his  tranquil  face  an  expression  of  something 

349 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

going  on  behind — and  that  was  formidable ;  so  formid 
able  that  the  boy  swallowed  hard  several  times. 

"  I  didn't  come  to  interfere,  gov'nor,"  he  stammered. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Murdock  dryly,  and 
waited. 

"  Mother's  frightfully  cut  up  because — "  Like  an 
inspiration  what  Sophy  had  happened  to  write  about  her 
letting  Juliet  stay  on  came  back  to  him.  He  went  for 
ward  impetuously :  "  I  just  wanted  to  tell  you  something 
that  perhaps  you  don't  know,  though  she  assumes  you 
do.  When  we  were  up  there  with  you — mother  found 
out  that — that  she  was  there — and  mother  went  to  the 
car — and  they  talked  and  she  pleaded.  And,  father — 
mother  gave  her  leave  to  stay  on  and  nurse  you."  And 
the  boy,  not  in  the  least  afraid  now,  faced  his  father 
with  straight  manly  simplicity. 

Murdock  stared  at  him  astounded.  "  Impossible !  " 
he  exclaimed  in  a  sharp,  quick  voice. 

"  It's  the  truth,"  insisted  Charley. 

"  Impossible !  "  repeated  Murdock  in  a  tone  of  com 
mand — a  command  that  the  truth  be  not  the  truth  since 
it  was  inconsistent  with  his  will. 

"  She  did  it,  father,  to  help  save  your  life,"  main 
tained  the  boy.  "  And  I  want  to  ask  you  if  you  think 
you're  giving  her  a  square  deal.  Of  course,  she  pretends 
she's  getting  the  divorce.  But  I  could  tell  from  her  let 
ter  she'd  not  be  doing  it  unless  you  were  insisting  on 
it.  And  I  don't  believe  you'll  insist,  now  you  know 
what  she  did  up  there.  I  don't  believe  Miss  Raeburn'd 
stand  for  it."  Charley  squared  himself,  looked  defiantly 
at  his  father.  "  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I'll 
go  to  her  and  tell  her.  Yes,  I  will !  " 

Murdock  made  an  impatient  gesture.  He  was  not 
listening,  had  hardly  heard.  The  sound  of  the  boy's 

350 


BUT   CHARLEY   INTERVENES 

voice  annoyed  him.  With  his  second  "  impossible  "  he 
had  passed  from  disbelief  to  belief,  and  his  whole  mind 
had  concentrated  upon  the  central  fact.  For  he  realized 
instantly  all  that  it  implied.  "  It  mustn't  be  true,"  he 
muttered,  with  the  furious  unreasonableness  of  the  will 
ful.  He  turned  upon  Charley.  "  Does  Presbury  know 
this  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  He  knows  all  about  it." 

"  Wait  here !  "  Murdock  strode  to  the  door.  "  I'll 
be  back."  And  he  was  gone. 

Charley  drew  himself  up  proudly.  "  I  thought  I 
could  settle  it ! "  said  he,  with  a  self-satisfied  nod  at  his 
own  image  in  a  mirror.  "  Mother  knew  she  wouldn't  be 
appealing  in  vain." 

Murdock  descended  to  the  office,  telephoned  Pres- 
bury's  house,  learned  that  he  was  out  of  town.  But  he 
did  not  return  to  Charley.  He  had  called  up  Presbury 
mechanically;  if  Presbury  had  been  at  home  he  would 
not  have  gone  there.  He  knew  now,  beyond  any  power 
of  his  will  to  befog  his  intelligence,  that  the  boy  was 
telling  the  truth.  He  took  an  auto  cab,  said  "  Up  the 
Riverside  Drive  "  to  the  motorman,  threw  himself  back 
in  the  corner  and  forgot  his  surroundings.  Two  things 
were  perpectly  clear  to  him :  that  it  would  be  cruel — cow 
ardly — contemptible  to  persist;  that,  even  if  he  could 
keep  Juliet  Raeburn  from  knowing  he  had  compelled  the 
divorce,  he  would  put  her  in  a  dishonorable  position — 
and  he  would  live  with  her  in  dread  of  the  day  when 
she  should  find  him  out. 

Cruel  —  cowardly  —  contemptible.  A  cruel  retort 
upon  an  act  of  mercy.  A  cowardly  retort  upon  an  act 
of  courageous  self-sacrifice.  A  contemptible  retort  upon 
an  act  of  generosity. 

When  he  first  made  up  his  mind  to  free  Sophy  and 
351 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

himself,  the  thing  had  seemed  as  easy  as  rational  and 
natural.  All  that  would  be  necessary  was  a  few  for 
malities,  work  for  the  lawyers,  and  no  trouble  to  Sophy 
or  himself.  None  of  the  obstacles  that  forbid  so  many 
ill-mated  couples — no  difficulties  about  money  or  about 
children ;  the  single  strand  of  the  marriage  bond  would 
be  quietly  cut — then,  freedom!  But  gradually  he  had 
been  learning  that  there  are  many  and  great  differences 
between  a  marriage  contract  and  other  business  con 
tracts.  Instead  of  a  single  strand  there  were  a  multi 
tude  ;  and  no  sooner  was  one  cut  than  new  ones  appeared. 
He  had  a  suffocating,  a  maddening  sense  that  he  was 
being  made  the  victim  of  one  of  fate's  savage  practical 
jokes;  that  he  would  go  on  and  on  struggling  to  be 
free,  only  to  find  himself  at  the  end  still  bound,  still 
ridiculously  struggling. 

He  tore  apart  Sophy's  action  in  letting  Juliet  stay. 
He  found  a  score  of  motives,  possible,  probable,  certain ; 
and  none  of  them  was  generous.  But  when  he  had  fin 
ished  his  cynical  dissection  he  was  back  where  he  started : 
Nevertheless,  Sophy  had  done  a  generous  thing,  and  he 
had  retorted  upon  her  by  trampling  her.  In  vain  he 
pleaded  to  himself  that  he  had  the  right  to  be  free,  that 
if  Sophy  were  not  jealous  and  short-sighted  she  would 
be  as  eager  to  be  free  as  he  was.  There  still  stood, 
squarely  across  the  path  to  his  desire,  the  rock  of  Sophy's 
generosity  when  he  was  helpless.  And  he  knew  that  one 
of  her  motives — not  the  determining  one,  perhaps,  but 
still  one  of  them — had  been  her  kind  heart.  She  had 
won  the  right  to  decide  without  coercion.  If  the  auto 
were  going  a  thousand  miles  an  hour  instead  of  ten  it 
couldn't  take  him  away  from  that.  In  all  his  life  he  had 
never  done  a  deliberately  mean  act.  Should  he  begin 
here  and  now? 

352 


BUT   CHARLEY  INTERVENES 

"  I've  got  the  right  to  do  it,"  he  muttered,  "  and  I 
ought  to  do  it.  Why  not?  " 

He  felt  no  softening  toward  Sophy — felt  only  as  if 
they  two  had  been  playing  a  game  and  she,  inexpert, 
a  bungler,  had  yet  contrived  by  a  fluke  to  checkmate  him, 
a  master  at  the  game.  If  he  should  leave  it  to  her  to 
say  whether  or  not  there  should  be  a  divorce,  it  would 
not  be  because  conscience  commanded  it  or  because  he 
was  yielding  to  gratitude's  soft  insistence.  Those  forces 
he  could  have  routed  as  easily  as  can  the  average 
man.  But  the  power  he  hesitated  before  was  fear — 
fear  of  that  most  eccentric  and  most  tyrannical  of 
masters — self-respect.  He  had  never  done  a  deliberate 
mean  act.  Should  he — could  he — to  win  freedom  and 
Juliet? 

As  he  reentered  his  apartment  Charley,  at  ease,  smok 
ing  a  cigarette,  rattling  and  throwing  about  the  Sun 
day  papers,  rose  and  said  in  his  self-assured  way,  "  I 
had  it  right,  didn't  I?" 

Murdock  looked  as  calm  and  deliberate  as  usual.  All 
signs  of  haste  and  agitation  were  gone.  He  replied  with 
his  customary  slow  tranquillity,  "  I'm  much  obliged  to 
you,  Charley." 

Charley  swelled  himself.  "  I  knew  you  didn't  know, 
and  would  want  to  know,"  he  began 

Murdock  laid  a  firm  kindly  hand  on  his  shoulder. 
"  Never  keep  on  talking  when  you  find  you've  said 
enough.  You're  taking  the  five  o'clock  back,  aren't 
you?" 

And  the  boy's  prompt  and  only  answer  was  a  meek 
"  Yes,  gov'nor." 

Toward  ten  that  night  Blagden,  following  his  Sun 
day  custom,  called  up  Murdock  to  find  out  whether 

353 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

anything  was  wanted.  Instead  of  the  usual  "  Mr. 
Murdock  says  there's  nothing,"  from  Simcox,  it  was 
Murdock's  own  voice,  polite  but  impatient.  "  I've  been 
trying  to  get  you  since  four,"  said  he.  "  Where  are 
you  now?  " 

"  At  the  club.  I  was  just  going  to  bed.  I'm  sorry 
I " 

"  That's  all  right.  I'll  have  to  ask  you  to  take  a 
run  out  to  Saint  X  to-night.  Get  ready,  please,  while 
I'm  on  the  way  up  to  you." 

"  Glad  to  go,"  was  Blagden's  answer.  It  would  have 
been  prompt  in  any  circumstances ;  it  was  distinctly 
eager.  And  when,  twenty  minutes  later,  the  hall  boy 
knocked  to  tell  him  Murdock  had  come  he  was  able  to 
say :  "  Take  down  the  bag.  I'll  be  there  in  two  min 
utes,"  though  he  had  had  to  change  from  evening  dress 
and  pack  for  a  possible  long  stay  where  he  especially 
wished  to  make  his  very  best  appearance.  In  somewhat 
less  than  two  minutes  he  descended,  ready  for  traveling ; 
he  was  carrying  a  suit  of  cream  silk  pyjamas.  "  I  for 
got  these,"  he  explained  to  Murdock,  as  he  unfastened 
the  bag  and  thrust  them  in. 

"  Sorry  to  upset  you  in  this  fashion,"  said  Murdock. 
"  But  it's  necessary." 

By  the  brilliant  lights  over  the  club  door  Blagden 
saw  the  sternness  of  his  features  that  seemed  to  add  ten 
years  to  his  age.  "  Something  wrong  at  the  Saint  X 
plant?  "  asked  the  secretary,  as  they  rushed  up  Fifth 
Avenue. 

Murdock  apparently  did  not  hear.  Blagden  ven 
tured  nothing  further.  They  entered  the  park,  flew 
swiftly  and  noiselessly  up  the  East  Drive.  Blagden 
noted  that  it  was  just  after  they  passed  Miss  Raeburn's 
house,  plainly  to  be  seen  across  the  low  wall  of  the  park 

354 


BUT   CHARLEY  INTERVENES 

and  through  the  as  yet  scantily  clad  trees  and  bushes, 
when  Murdock  broke  his  silence.  "  I'm  taking  you  to 
the  125th  Street  station,"  said  he. 

"  But  does  my  train  stop  there  ?  " 

"  It  will  to-night.    I  had  Simcox  telephone." 

Another  long  pause.  As  they  shot  from  the  park 
at  110th  Street  and  started  up  wide  Lenox  Avenue, 
Murdock  went  on :  "I  want  you  to  go  to  Saint  X,  to 
the  Eyrie,  and  tell  Mrs.  Murdock  that,  unless  she  her 
self  wishes  the  divorce  proceeding  to  go  on,  it  can  be 
dropped.  Tell  her  I'm  willing  to  continue  as  at  present, 
and  to  provide  a  separate  maintenance — will  transfer  to 
her  sufficient  to  cover  all  her  expenses  on  her  present 
basis  of  living.  If  she  says  she  wishes  the  proceeding 
dropped,  go  to  my  lawyers — talk  only  to  Wickham — 
Wickham  senior — and  tell  him." 

Blagden  repeated  the  instructions,  as  Murdock  had 
trained  him  always  to  do.  His  voice  was  so  monotonous 
and  strained  that  Murdock  said  solicitously,  "  Are  you 
ill,  Blagden?" 

"  No,  oh,  no,"  replied  the  secretary,  in  better  voice. 
"  A  bit  tired — that's  all.  I  was  playing  hard  squash 
all  afternoon." 

"  If  you  are  ill " 

"  I  assure  you  I'm  not.    All  I  need  is  rest — sleep." 

When  the  auto  drew  up  at  the  curb  before  the  rail 
way  station,  Murdock  said,  "  Please  repeat  my  instruc 
tions  again." 

Blagden  glanced  at  the  clock  in  the  auto.  "  The 
train's  overdue." 

"  They'll  hold  it.  Their  orders  are  positive.  Please 
repeat.  Don't  hurry." 

Blagden  repeated  the  exact  language. 

"  That's  right,"  said  Murdock.  "  I  want  the  mes- 
355 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

sage  delivered  precisely  as  I  gave  it  to  you.     But  make 
no  memorandum." 

Blagden  hastened  away,  and  into  the  waiting  train. 
He  went  to  bed  at  once,  but  not  to  sleep.  With  his  cur 
tain  up  and  the  majestic  panorama  of  Palisades  and 
Catskills  and  placid  Hudson  streaming  by,  clear  in  the 
diaphanously  misty  moonlight,  he  revolved  temptation  to 
villainy.  Not  as  temptation  to  villainy,  however.  Such 
temptations  always  present  themselves  to  intelligent  and 
resourceful — and  conscientious — minds  as  opportunities 
to  do  right  in  a  slightly  devious  way  or  in  a  way  liable 
to  be  misunderstood  if  discovered  by  some  one  with  only 
partial  knowledge  of  the  facts.  The  educated  gentle 
man's  conscience  is  also  educated,  skilled  in  logic,  proud, 
acutely  honorable.  And  Melville  Blagden  was  an  edu 
cated  gentleman.  He  could  never  do  wrong  except  from 
a  right  motive.  He  would  never  cut  a  throat  or  scuttle 
a  ship  as  a  crime;  of  what  use  is  education,  if  not  to 
enable  a  man  to  demonstrate  that  such  an  act  is  in  the 
circumstances  a  virtue  eighteen  carats  fine  at  least  ? 


XXVI 

THE    AGNES-FLEURY    CORSET 

SOPHY  kept  him  waiting  nearly  two  hours ;  for,  when 
he  arrived,  she  was  deep  in  most  important  business  that 
could  not  be  put  off. 

With  the  revival  of  the  divorce  proceedings  had  come 
prompt  revival  of  anxiety  about  her  looks.  The  very 
day  Blagden  brought  Murdock's  command  to  resume 
the  divorce  suit — indeed,  within  an  hour  of  his  going — 
she  locked  herself  in  her  dressing  room  and  examined 
herself  with  patient,  serious  care,  unlighted  by  the  faint 
est  gleam  of  humor.  When  she  finished  she  lay  down 
and  had  a  good  cry — partly  over  the  sad  state  of  dis 
repair  she  had  found,  principally  over  the  impending 
labor  and  dieting  and  general  effort,  mental  and  physi 
cal.  After  the  cry  she  admitted  her  maid  and  said: 
"  Katy,  how  much  larger  is  my  waist  than  it  was  six 
months  ago — when  I  got  those  last  new  corsets  ?  " 

"  I'll  see,  ma'am,"  Katy  replied.  "  I  never  changed 
the  strings  in  the  last  one  of  Madame  Agnes's  you  wore." 

When  Katy  returned  and  measured  her  mistress,  cor 
seted  tightly  but  endurably,  she  announced,  "  You've 
taken  on  a  good  three  inches  and  five  sixteenths,  ma'am." 

Sophy  gazed  ruefully  at  her  figure — or  lack  of  it — 
reflected  to  her  by  her  mirror.  She  tried  to  put  on  one 
of  the  Agnes  corsets,  made  especially  to  compel  her  flesh 
to  shapeliness.  It  was  far  too  small,  without  letting  out 

357 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

the  lacings ;  and  if  the  lacings  were  let  out,  the  whole 
purpose  of  the  contrivance  would  be  defeated.  "  I'll  have 
to  get  a  new  set,"  sighed  she. 

But  she  was  not  yet  thoroughly  roused.  Sending 
for  Agnes  to  measure  her  and  ordering  a  dozen  pairs 
of  the  corsets  meant  exertion,  not  to  speak  of  the  expen 
diture  of  nearly  two  thousand  dollars ;  she  put  off  writ 
ing  until  Katy  informed  her  that  her  waist  measure  had 
increased  by  another  "  good  inch  and  a  quarter — snug 
measure."  To  have  watched  her  during  those  months 
of  settling  back  and  neglecting  what  she  had  learned 
from  Blagden  and  from  New  York  would  have  been  to 
have  decided  that  here  was  a  hopeless  case.  But  there 
was  one  difference  between  the  two  periods  of  slovenli 
ness,  and  that  difference  decisive.  The  backslidden 
Sophy  did  not  loll  contented  in  her  sloth,  was,  on  the 
contrary,  wretchedly  ill  at  ease,  stung  by  the  flies  and 
gnats  of  anger  and  shame.  When  Katy  sounded  the 
second  warning  she  acted  like  the  sleeper  who  lies  on 
after  the  first  call  because  he  hates  to  leave  his  warm  bed 
for  the  cold  room  and  the  bother  of  dressing,  though  he; 
knows  he  must,  and  who  at  the  second  call  springs  out 
and  begins  to  dash  madly  about.  Sophy  did  not  write 
Agnes ;  she  telegraphed. 

Agnes's  woman,  Mademoiselle  Fleury,  arrived  on 
Sunday  morning  with  a  trial  corset.  Sophy  was  eager 
for  the  fitting,  but  she  felt  she  could  not  afford  to  take 
chances  with  the  higher  powers  when  she  was  trying 
their  forbearance  so  severely  by  her  divorce  suit.  On 
Monday,  at  eight  in  the  morning,  Mademoiselle  Fleury 
appeared  in  her  dressing  room  with  the  corset — Madame 
Agnes's  latest  invention  for  relieving  the  sufferings  of 
the  vanity  of  women  too  self-indulgent  to  diet  and  too 
lazy  to  exercise,  by  increasing  the  sufferings  of  their 

358 


THE  AGNES-FLEURY  CORSET 

bodies.  Taken  by  pretty  Miss  Fleury  with  much  proud 
ceremony  from  its  wrappings  of  paper  and  cloth,  it  was 
revealed  as  strange  a  machine  as  female  ever  wore  to  aid 
her  to  gain  or  maintain  sway  over  the  male.  It  weighed 
about  four  pounds  and  a  half,  and  was  a  combination 
corslet,  back  strap  and  leggings  all  of  steel  and  stiffest 
buckram. 

"  Mercy  me !  "  exclaimed  Sophy,  viewing  the  un 
couth-looking,  complicated  contraption  with  repulsion 
and  dismay.  "  That's  much  worse  than  the  others.  And 
ain't  it  going  to  be  covered  with  satin  ?  " 

Up  went  mademoiselle's  eyebrows,  lips,  shoulders, 
hands  in  polite  expostulation.  "  Mais,  madame,  s'  vous 
plait,  il  vous  don " 

"  I'd  rather  you  spoke  English,"  interrupted  Sophy, 
crossly. 

The  young  woman  had  deliberately  begun  in  French, 
having  had  experience  how  vastly  American  women  of 
the  class  she  played  upon  were  impressed  and  disadvan- 
taged  by  it,  even  where  they  themselves  spoke  it,  or 
fancied  they  did.  But  she  cried,  "  Ah — pardon !  "  as 
if  she  had  been  guilty  of  a  stupid  blunder.  "  It  is  a 
gran'  advance — magnifique.  It  give  madame  ze  superb 
— exquise — physique.  Ve  do  not  cover  him  avec — wiz 
anysings.  It  make  ze  bulk  too  gran'."  And,  face  aglow, 
hands  incessant  in  graceful  gesticulation,  manner  that 
impressive  seriousness  which  enables  our  French  friends 
to  invest  the  most  trivial  matter  with  dignity  and  inter 
est,  the  young  woman  explained,  chiefly  by  pantomime, 
the  advantages  of  the  various  new  bulwarks,  retaining 
walls,  fat  diffusers,  and  binding  chains.  When  she  had 
Mrs.  Murdock  wrought  up  to  the  fit  pitch,  she  in  per 
oration  to  her  eloquence  put  the  corset  on  her  as  an  arch 
bishop  might  personally  invest  a  monarch  with  the  robes 

359 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

and  dignities  of  his  sovereignty.  This  meant  full  fifteen 
minutes  of  artfully  concealed  struggle  and  strenuous 
muscular  exertion  that  showed  not  at  all  in  mademoi 
selle's  serious-smiling,  affable  face,  but  was  more  than 
hinted  in  the  drops  of  sweat  beading  her  pretty  brow. 

"  How  well  you  do  your  hair,  mademoiselle,"  said 
Sophy,  perspiring  profusely  also,  but  patient  after  the 
nature  of  woman  the  long-suffering.  "  You  must  teach 
my  Katy." 

"  Wis  plaisir,  madame,"  said  Miss  Fleury,  bowing 
gratefully.  "  But — ze  corset !  "  She  stood  off  and 
viewed  it  as  if  she  had  suddenly  burst  upon  a  rare  and 
beautiful  work  of  art.  The  steel  and  buckram  crushed 
in  part  of  the  fat,  divided  the  rest,  thrusting  some  of  it 
up  toward  the  chest,  coercing  more  downward  to  be 
taken  care  of  by  the  lower  straps,  clamps,  and  plates 
which  mewed  up  the  hips  and  molded  stomach  and  back 
to  less  obstreperous  convexity.  Mrs.  Murdock  was  large 
still — that  could  not  be  denied.  But  she  now  had  figure, 
a  figure  of  the  most  generous  contours,  indeed,  but  one 
she  need  not  be  ashamed  of. 

"  It's  really  splendid,"  said,  or  rather  gasped,  she, 
admiring  herself  front,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  large  hand 
glass  held  by  Katy,  sides  and  back.  She  had  a  full  and 
fair  view,  as  the  corset  was  applied  direct  t«  the  skin. 

"  Madame  perhaps  finds  it  snug — a  leetle  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  isn't  what  you'd  call  loose,"  admitted 
Sophy,  trying  to  take  a  real  breath  and  failing.  "  It 
looks  as  if  I'd  have  to  learn  to  talk  in  it  without  gasp 
ing." 

"  But  zat  vill  pass — "  Miss  Fleury  waved  her  hand 
in  a  vanishing  gesture — "  entierement.  And  if  madame 
vill  vear  it  vhen  she  sleep,  ze  figure  vill  grow  to  her." 

"  Good  Lord !  "  exclaimed  Sophy,  gazing  at  her  in 
360 


THE  AGNES-FLEURY  CORSET 

horror.  "  I  can  never  stand  it  day  and  night,  Only 
when  I  have  to  see  people/' 

"  Parfaitement,"  assented  Miss  Fleury.  "  Still,  ze 
figure  graduellement  become  madame's  veritable  figure. 
It — ze  corset — melt  avay  ze  fat." 

"  I  believe  it,"  said  Sophy.  She  turned  slowly  round, 
admiring  her  new  self  from  all  points  of  view.  "  I  really 
must  be  careful  what  I  eat.  There's  no  sense  in  my  not 
having  this  figure  all  the  time — naturally,  I  mean.  .  .  „ 
Those  braces  and  laces  at  the  back  begin  to  cut  into  me 
a  little,  mademoiselle." 

"  Alas,  madame,  it  is  necessaire " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  complaining.  I'll  get  used  to  it.  .  .  . 
But  can  I  sit  down  in  it  ?  " 

Katy  brought  a  chair  from  the  dressing  table.  Mrs. 
Murdock  slowly  bent  her  knees,  tried  to  sit.  "  I  can't !  " 
she  exclaimed,  in  agony  and  despair.  "  Whatever  shall 
I  do?  "  Between  sitting  and  standing  she  gazed  trag 
ically  at  her  image  in  the  mirror. 

"  It  could  be  let  out,"  suggested  Katy,  who  was  on 
the  broad  grin.  And  she  hastened  from  the  room  to 
laugh  "  fit  to  bust,"  as  she  put  it  in  relating  the  matter 
afterwards  to  the  assembled  backstairs. 

"  Mais  non !  Non !  "  protested  Miss  Fleury.  "  Ma 
dame  is  large  in  ze  back.  It  spoil  ze  tout  ensemble  to 
disturb  ze  contour  zere.  Is  it  not  so,  madame  ?  " 

Sophy  inspected  the  rear  view  of  her  figure,  saw  that 
any  relaxation  of  the  pressure  would  result  in  an  un 
sightly,  deforming  release.  "  I  reckon  you're  right," 
she  was  forced  to  admit.  "  But — I've  got  to  sit  some 
times." 

Miss  Fleury  gazed  at  the  constricting  bulge  of  the 
corset  like  a  general  studying  a  map  of  a  proposed  bat 
tlefield.  "  Perhaps,"  she  finally  said,  "  I  could  put  heffy; 
24  361 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

— a  heffy  elastique  zere."  The  idea  grew  more  feasible, 
more  promising  as  she  revolved  it.  "  Ah,  yes — it  is  ze 
vary  ting.  Heffy — vary  heffy  elastique  vich  concede 
ven  madame  sit  herself,  vich  close  back  ven  madame 
stand.  I  can  do  it  zis  morning,  and  madame  can  try  zis 
afternoon." 

Sophy's  expression  of  despondency  lifted.  "  Katy 
will  help  you — and  anyone  else  you  want,"  she  said. 

She  took  a  last  lingering  look  at  her  new  figure ;  then 
Miss  Fleury  swiftly  removed  the  corset — corslet,  rather, 
for  it  would  have  turned  bullet  or  poniard  point.  As 
the  fastenings  sprang  open  Sophy,  with  an  enormous 
sigh,  expanded  to  her  normal  proportions.  Miss  Fleury, 
who  had  been  between  her  and  the  glass,  stood  aside. 
Apparently  her  movement  was  accidental ;  in  fact  it  was 
one  of  the  thousand  and  one  clever  tricks  which  were 
forcing  Madame  Agnes  to  face  the  necessity  of  taking 
in  Miss  Fleury  as  a  partner.  Not  often  do  we  get  a 
sharp  impression  of  the  contrast  between  ourselves  as 
we  should  be  and  ourselves  as  we  are.  Sophy  now  had 
one  of  those  rare  unhappy  but  salutary  lessons.  An 
instant  before  she  had  seen  reflected  from  that  mirror  a 
woman  of  prodigal  proportions  indeed,  but  of  propor 
tions;  now,  there  faced  her  at  full  length  a  body — a 
mass —  She  became  scarlet,  and  her  impulse  was  to 
hide  her  face  with  her  hands,  that  she  might  shut  out 
the  repellent  image  and  the  shame  of  seeing  the  pretty 
French  girl,  so  perfect  in  figure,  and  the  just-returning 
Katy  observing  her.  They  noted  her  abject  confusion, 
turned  away,  and  pretended  to  busy  themselves  with 
doing  up  the  corset.  Sophy,  seeing  that  she  was  unob 
served,  took  another  look  at  herself. 

"  I'm  a  sight,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  and  there's  no 
denying  it."  If  she  had  gone  on  to  make  one  of  those 

362 


THE  AGNES-FLEUEY  CORSET 

brave  resolutions  wherewith  we  are  always  quieting  our 
consciences  and  preventing  ourselves  from  improving, 
then  and  there  would  have  been  the  end  of  the  incident, 
But  the  dart  had  struck  too  deep.  Sophy  made  no  reso 
lution  ;  she  simply  became  a  resolution ;  she  would  get  rid 
of  those  soft  rolls  and  folds  of  shapeless  and  sloppy  sur 
plusage  at  any  cost.  Thenceforth  temptation  to  self- 
indulgence  would  be  faced  and  shamed  by  that  repellent 
image.  Vanity,  the  most  potent  of  human  qualities  for 
good  as  well  as  for  ill,  had  definitely  arid  finally  become 
the  faithful  and  vigilant  ally  of  her  sluggish  impulse  to 
self-improvement.  At  last,  Sophy's  self-respect  was  up 
and  doing. 

When  Blagden's  card  was  brought  that  afternoon, 
Sophy  was  trying  on  the  Agnes  model  as  improved  by 
the  Fleury  elastic  contrivance  for  permitting  the  wearer 
to  sit.  She  found  she  could  seat  herself  without  great 
effort.  "  And,"  said  she,  "  as  I  get  used  to  it,  I  think 
I'll  not  mind.  Now,  I've  got  a  feeling  that  the  thing'll 
— burst — -front  and  back." 

"  Jamais,  jamais,  madame,"  protested  Miss  Fleury. 
"  Jamais!  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  could  blow  it  open  with  dyna 
mite,  ma'am,"  said  Katy. 

"  I  reckon  not,"  assented  Mrs.  Murdock.  She  hesi 
tated,  and  with  heightened  color,  "  Have  you  got  to 
take  this  back  to  New  York  with  you,  mademoiselle?  " 

"  It  vould  be  better,  madame." 

She  reflected.  "Well,"  said  she,  "anyhow  I  can 
•wear  it  this  afternoon.  Your  train  doesn't  leave  till 
after  five.  Come,  Katy,  I  must  dress  quickly.  I've  kept 
Mr.  Blagden  waiting  too  long." 

Sophy  put  on  over  the  new  corset  a  beautiful  gray 
afternoon  dress  she  had  bought  at  Dangerfield's  when  in 

363 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   'NEW' 

New  York,  but  had  been  unable  to  wear  because  of  the 
increase  in  her  bulk.  Also,  she  accepted  Miss  Fleury's 
offer  to  do  her  hair,  with  the  result  that  its  abundance 
looked  attractive,  as  it  had  not  looked  since  the  illness 
after  the  second  baby  deprived  it  of  much  of  its  original 
natural  beauty  of  growth  and  texture.  She  was  not 
comfortable  physically  as  she  descended  to  the  east 
drawing-room  to  greet  Blagden ;  but  she  felt  she  was 
looking  well,  better  than  she  had  looked  in  years,  and 
the  moral  uplift  of  that  feeling  made  her  mentally  con 
tent,  despite  her  uneasiness  as  to  what  Blagden's  visit 
might  mean.  When  she  entered  he  flushed  with  pleas 
ure.  His  glance  swept  from  the  "  voluptuous  figure  " 
directly  to  the  new  style  of  wearing  her  hair.  He  had 
always  disliked  the  old  way,  which  gave  a  bare,  sleek 
look  about  the  temples  and  the  nape  of  the  neck.  "  A 
mighty  handsome  woman,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  And 
she'd  be  a  stunner  if  some  one  who  knew  something 
would  take  her  in  hand.  She  certainly  does  need  a  man 
like  me." 

Sophy  had  colored  as  vividly  as  he;  he  had  let  his 
delight  and  admiration  show  plainly  in  his  pleasing,  if 
insignificant,  features.  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you  again," 
cried  she,  extending  her  hand  with  a  cordial  smile. 

"  And  I'm  doubly  glad,"  replied  he,  "  as  I'm  bring 
ing  news  that's  in  every  way  agreeable." 

"Really?" 

"  Mr.  Murdock  has  sent  me  to  ask  you  to  stop  the 
divorce  proceedings." 

Sophy's  face  became  radiant.  "  He  has  come  to  his 
senses !  I  knew  he  would."  And  her  first  thought  was, 
"  Perhaps,  after  all,  I'd  better  take  only  one  of  these 
corsets.  They're  very  trying — and  so  expensive." 

"  He  says,"  Blagden  was  continuing,  "  if  you  will 
364 


THE  AGNES-FLEURY  CORSET 

stop  the  suit,  he  will  agree  permanently  to  make  you 
your  present  allowance." 

Sophy's  fine  eyes  opened  wide  in  wonder.  "  Make  me 
independent  of  him?  " 

Blagden's  glance  shifted.     He  said  nothing. 

"  Still,"  she  went  on,  taking  his  silence  for  a  nega 
tive  answer,  "  that  doesn't  matter,  does  it?  " 

Blagden  looked  grave,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Whatever  brought  him  round,  I  wonder?  I  sup 
pose  I  mustn't  ask  you,  you're  so  sensitive  about  being 
loyal  to  him." 

The  secretary  colored.  After  a  pause  he  gave  Mrs. 
Murdock  a  curious  glance.  "  You're  sure  you  want  to 
accept  ?  "  he  said.  Then,  with  an  air  of  contrition,  he 
hastened  to  add,  "  Pray,  forget  I  asked  that ! " 

Sophy  took  alarm.  "  Please,  Mr.  Blagden,"  she  im 
plored,  "  tell  me  what  you're  thinking."  Pathetically — 
"  I've  no  one  to  advise  me." 

"  You  must  not  ask  me.  You  really  must  not."  He 
rose  in  agitation  and  stood  at  the  window  with  his  back 
to  her. 

Sophy  was  in  a  panic.  "  Mr.  Blagden ! "  she 
pleaded,  following  him  and  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

He  startled  as  if  her  touch  had  stung  him.  He  gave 
her  a  hurried  glance,  respectful,  timid,  but  burning — 
and  no  woman  could  have  mistaken  its  meaning. 

She  took  her  hand  lingeringly  away;  a  warm  glow 
of  pleasure  in  her  power  over  this  man  was  suffusing 
her  skin  and  brightening  her  handsome  eyes.  "  Mr. 
Blagden,"  she  urged  gently,  "  you  say  you  are  my 
friend.  Advise  me." 

He  stared  out  of  the  window  for  a  few  seconds ;  then, 
turning  abruptly  to  her,  he  said :  "  If  I  were  you,  Mrs. 
Murdock,  I'd  go  on  with  the  divorce." 

365 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW, 

"  I  thought  you'd  say  that,"  exclaimed  she.  "  I've 
an  instinct  the  same  way — "  And  she  had  not  the  faint 
est  suspicion  whence  that  instinct  had  come.  The  corset 
had  been  cutting  into  her  in  a  dozen  places,  but  she  had 
been  able  to  endure,  even  almost  to  disregard.  Now, 
however,  it  began  to  attack  her  breathing.  She  has 
tened  to  sit  down.  Sitting  required  less  breath  than 
standing;  also  the  change  of  position  shifted  the  pres 
sure,  easing  parts  tormented  to  their  limit  of  endurance. 
"  Yes,  that's  my  instinct.  But  I  can't  just — "  She 
hesitated. 

He  continued  to  look  at  her,  with  that  expression  of 
sympathy  and  reluctance.  "  You  are  honest  yourself. 
That  makes  you  too  confiding." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  she  replied  mournfully.  "  As 
Charley  says  I'm  a  *  good  thing.'  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  that,  I'd  never  have  got  into  all  this  trouble." 

"  You  must  see,  there  never  can  be  any  real  recon 
ciliation  between  you  and  Mr.  Murdock." 

"  No,"  she  assented.  "  He  has  gone  too  far.  I  can 
try  to  forgive  him,  but — "  Her  lip  trembled,  and  her 
eyes  flashed  with  anger  and  tears —  "  I  can't  ever  for- 
get." 

66  He  knows  that  as  well  as  you  do." 

Blagden  let  Sophy  reflect  on  this,  with  the  result 
that  she  presently  said :  "  It  is  strange,  isn't  it — his 
wanting  to  stop  all  of  a  sudden?  There's  something 
hidden — some  kind  of  a  trap.  .  .  .  Please,  Mr.  Blag- 
den,"  she  begged,  "  help  me !  I'm  very  stupid  at  these 
kind  of  things." 

Blagden  seemed  to  be — and  almost  thought  him 
self — struggling  between  duty  to  his  employer  and 
manly  sense  of  the  just  and  decent.  "  If  you  go 
on  with  the  divorce,"  he  said  reluctantly,  "  you  get 

366 


THE  AGNES-FLEUEY  CORSET 

freedom  and  a  fortune.     If  you  don't  go  on,  what  do 
you  get?  " 

Sophy  puzzled  with  this.  Despite  the  distraction  of 
the  stabbing  and  suffocating  corset,  she  presently  saw 
what  he  was  thrusting  into  her  very  eyes.  "  Why !  " 
she  cried.  "  I  don't  get  anything,  do  I?  He  can  be 
gin  again  whenever  he  likes !  And  maybe  he'll  do  it  in 
such  a  way  that  he  won't  have  to  give  me  more  than  a 
bare  living " 

"  If  that,"  interrupted  Blagden,  in  a  most  meaning 
tone. 

"Oh,  what  a  scoundrel!"  cried  Sophy.  And  her 
physical  pain — the  stabbing  into  her  sides,  the  tingling 
and  pinching  under  the  elastic — was  as  a  fiery  goad  to 
her  wrath.  "  I  see  it  all !  What  a  fool  I  was,  not  to 
know  at  once  that  such  a  man  as  he  is  wouldn't  make 
a  move  unless  it  was  to  get  some  underhanded  advan 
tage."  Impulsively  she  stretched  out  both  her  hands 
to  Blagden,  and  he  took  them.  The  gesture  gave  her 
momentary  relief  from  her  tormentor.  "  I'll  not  accept 
his  proposition !  "  she  cried  with  flashing  eyes.  "  Now 
that  I've  begun,  I'll  go  on  to  the  bitter  end.  I  won't 
have  this  awful,  wicked  business  dragging  and  nagging 
at  me." 

Blagden  pressed  her  beautiful  hands  enthusiastically, 
"  How  sensible  you  are,  my  dear  friend !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Now  that  you've  taken  the  right  course,  I  feel  free 
to  say  I  was  in  terror  lest  you'd  not  see  the  trap." 

"  See  it?  Why,  I  was  sure  to  see  it.  He  always 
did  think  I  was  a  fool.  But  I'm  not." 

"  If  I  were  you,  I'd  telephone  for  my  lawyer  this 
very  afternoon,  and  make  him  hurry  matters.  You 
see,  Mrs.  Murdock,  I've  got  to  go  back  at  once  and 
report.  I  can't  possibly  put  off  my  report  longer  than 

367 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

day  after  to-morrow.  But  much  can  be  done  to-mor 
row — before  I  arrive  in  New  York.  I  imagine  Mur- 
dock  had  everything  arranged  with  the  judge.  You 
know,  he  can  do  about  what  he  pleases  with  the 
courts " 

"  But,"  interrupted  Sophy  shrewdly,  "  suppose 
he  should  refuse  to  make  the  settlement  he  promised?  " 

Blagden  had  canvassed  this  in  his  solitary  council 
of  war  on  the  train  the  night  before.  He  had  the  an 
swer  ready :  "  Your  lawyer  has  it  in  writing.  Besides, 
isn't  it  very  evident  that  for  some  reason — you  mustn't 
ask  me  what  reason — you  have  him  in  your  power  for 
the  moment?  Use  your  power,  while  you  have  it,  Mrs. 
Murdock.  I  know  this  sounds  disloyal  to  him.  But 
my  conscience  is  clear.  I  am  acting  in  what's  really 
his  best  interest  as  well  as  in  yours."  And  Blagden 
looked  it,  and  felt  it. 

"  You  needn't  tell  me  that,  Mr.  Blagden,"  Sophy 
earnestly  answered  him.  "  I  know  it  without  your  say 
ing  it.  I  know  an  honest  man  when  I  see  one.  And 
trust  a  woman's  instinct  to  judge  a  sincere,  disinter 
ested  friend." 

Blagden  blushed  furiously.  "  Sincere,"  he  said  in 
a  low,  hesitating  voice,  "  but  not  disinterested.  If  I've 
exceeded  my  right,  it's  because —  But  I  mustn't  say 
that —  Forgive  me." 

Sophy  smiled  quickly  and  friendlily  at  the  aristo 
cratic-looking,  fashionably  dressed  young  man.  What 
a  lovely  skin  did  go  with  red  hair ;  and  really,  the  hair 
was  of  the  most  aristocratic  red — not  in  the  least  com 
mon  and  carroty.  Besides  she  felt  that  he  could  be 
highly  useful  to  her,  indeed  was  necessary;  it  would 
be  most  unwise  to  discourage  him  in  his — friendliness. 

"  This  is  the  last  service  I  shall  ever  perform  for 
368 


THE  ^GNES-FLEUEY   CORSET 

him,"  Blagden  continued  after  the  long,  surcharged 
pause.  "  I  shall  resign  as  soon  as  I  make  my  report. 
You  don't  know  how  repulsive  this  whole  business  has 
been  to  me !  " 

"  But  you  mustn't  resign,"  pleaded  Sophy.  She 
had  been  eager  to  go,  that  she  might  hasten  to  her 
room  and  free  herself  from  the  suffocating  grip  of  her 
corset.  This  new  anxiety  diverted  her  mind  again. 
"  Indeed  you  mustn't  leave — until  the  divorce  is 
granted." 

Blagden  shook  his  head. 

"  For  my  sake,  Mr. — Blagden — for  my  sake !  It 
will  only  be  for  a  few  weeks."  Smiling  and  blushing, 
"  I  forbid  you  to  resign !  " 

Blagden  heaved  a  sigh.  "  Perhaps  it  is  my  duty," 
he  said — and  he  meant  it.  He  half  turned  away.  "  I 
cannot  resist  you,"  he  muttered,  so  low  that  she  could 
pretend  to  think  he  believed  she  had  not  heard. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  gently.  And  she  took  his 
hand  and  pressed  it.  "Whatever  should  I  have  done 
without  you!  God  has  been  good  to  me.  He  has 
raised  up  a  friend  for  me  in  my  hour  of  affliction." 

"  I  would — would — do — anything  for  you,"  he 
burst  forth.  Then,  in  real  agitation — for  he  had  not 
intended  to  go  so  far — he  hastened  away.  And  she, 
at  the  end  of  physical  endurance  of  the  torments  her 
"  figure  "  was  causing,  made  no  effort  to  detain  him, 
though  she  had  a  sense  that  the  talk  between  them  was 
somehow  incomplete. 

On  the  evening  express  for  New  York  traveled 
Blagden  and  the  pretty  little  corset  maker.  Blagdea 
was  ensconced  in  luxury  in  a  Pullman  compartment. 
Miss  Fleury  and  her  bundle  were  tucked  away  in  a 

869 


OLD    WIVES  FOB   NEW 

stuffy  seat  in  a  day  coach ;  thus  she  could  without  vio 
lating  her  conscience  collect  from  Madam  Agnes  the 
price  of  a  sleeping  car  berth.  Both  were  bearers  of 
Sophy  Murdock's  destiny.  It  is  difficult  to  say — is 
it  not? — which  had  the  more  important  share  of  the 
burden. 


XXVII 


AT  his  club  again,  Blagden  searched  his  mail,  sick 
with  anxiety.  Suppose  Sophy — changeable,  with  no  self- 
reliance,  "  thoroughly  womanly  " — should  have  tele 
graphed  him  that  she  had  changed  her  mind  and  would 
accept  Murdock's  terms — what  should  he  do?  He  had 
been  able  to  think  of  no  plan  that  did  not  involve  in  its 
execution  a  frank  throwing  away  of  self-respect — the 
necessity  that  in  acting  he  confess  himself  to  himself  a 
plain  rascal.  "  I'll  let  her  go,"  he  had  been  saying. 
"  I  will  not  do  a  dishonorable  trick  even  for  her  sake, 
even  to  save  her  from  her  own  weak  womanly  good 
ness  of  heart."  But  his  self-reassurances  of  unshaken 
high  principle  somehow  did  not  reassure;  and  he  was 
dreading  the  approach  of  a  situation  that  would 
tempt  him  perhaps  beyond  his  moral  strength. 

He  was  enormously  relieved  when  he  found  no  tele 
gram  from  her,  so  relieved  that  he  was  almost  recon 
ciled  to  a  message  awaiting  him  from  Murdock — "  Mr. 
Murdock  wishes  to  see  you  at  his  hotel,  no  matter  what 
time  you  get  in." 

Blagden  read  this  gloomily,  angrily.  Eager  for 
pretexts  for  hating  Murdock,  he  read  into  its  curt  di 
rectness  the  arrogance  of  master  to  slave.  "  I'm  too 
tired  to  go  to-night,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  I  can  pre 
tend  I  didn't  get  this  message." 

371 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

Even  as  he  decided  for  delay  the  doorman  came  to 
him.  "  Mr.  Murdock's  man,  Simcox,  is  waiting  for 
you,  sir." 

Blagden's  sudden  sinking  at  the  heart  showed  it 
was  not  altogether  fatigue  from  the  journey  that  had 
made  him  seek  to  delay  facing  his  employer.  "  You 
told  him  you  didn't  know  whether  I  was  in  or  not  ?  " 

"  He  was  at  the  corner,  sir,  when  you  got  out  of 
your  cab.  He  saw  you  come  in." 

"  I  might  have  known ! "  muttered  Blagden. 
"  That  damned  scoundrel  never  takes  chances."  Men 
tally  his  name  for  Murdock  now  was  "  that  scoun 
drel  " ;  it  seemed  to  aid  him  to  keep  steady  the  point 
of  view  that  he  was  not  a  traitor,  but  an  honest  man 
unfortunately  so  placed  that  his  high-minded  actions 
might  be  misinterpreted  as  treason. 

In  the  servant's  waiting  room  stood  Simcox,  grim, 
funereal,  suggesting  to  him  the  guard  that  leads  the 
prisoner  to  execution.  "  Mr.  Murdock  told  me  to 
come  here  and  stay  round,  sir,  until  eleven.  He 
thought  possibly  you  might  return  by  the  ten-fifteen 
to-night." 

"  I'll  drive  down  to  him  straight  away,"  said  Blag- 
den,  with  such  offhandedness  of  manner  as  he  could 
muster. 

Outside,  he  climbed  into  a  hansom  and  told  Sim 
cox  to  get  in  also.  "  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Simcox. 
He,  all  servants,  liked  Blagden  because  he,  so  certain 
of  his  superiority  that  he  was  not  disturbed  about  that 
particular  kind  of  "  appearances,"  had  a  highly  at 
tractive  democratic  way  with  his  "  inferiors."  All  the 
way  down  the  avenue  Blagden  was  nerving  himself  for 
the  ordeal.  He  knew  Murdock,  knew  what  it  meant 
to  face  that  mind  accustomed  to  meeting  and  vanquish- 


'S  BAD   QUARTER  HOUR 


ing  all  the  forms  of  indirection.  True,  Murdock  was 
not  in  the  least  suspicious  of  him,  and  was  probably 
eager  for  just  the  news  he  was  bringing  —  there  lay 
his  hope  of  getting  through  without  discovery  and 
disaster.  "  But,"  reflected  the  secretary,  "  if  I'm  mis 
taken,  and  he  really  wants  her  to  stop  that  divorce 
suit,  he'll  act  as  he  always  does  when  he's  in  earnest 
—  he'll  tear  every  word  I  say  to  pieces  and  find  out 
all  that's  in  it  and  under  it." 

Never  had  Blagden  been  put  to  such  a  test  as  in 
preparing  for  that  interview.  And  it  was  proof  of  the 
essential  strength  of  his  character  that  his  nerves  were 
steady  and  his  features  calm  when  he  entered  the  salon 
of  Murdock's  suite,  where  Murdock  and  Berkeley,  in 
dinner  jackets,  were  talking  sport  listlessly. 

He  assumed  he  would  immediately  be  taken  aside 
and  questioned.  Instead,  Murdock,  after  a  handshake, 
and  without  glancing  at  him,  invited  him  to  be  seated, 
had  the  servant  bring  him  brandy  and  soda,  drew  him 
into  the  conversation.  Half  an  hour,  an  hour,  an  hour 
and  a  half  passed;  Murdock  showed  no  sign  of  im 
patience,  but  talked,  and  —  sure  evidence  of  willingness 
to  continue  —  asked  Berkeley  questions  involving  ex 
tended  answers.  "  If  it  wasn't  for  that  note  at  the 
club,"  thought  Blagden,  "  I'd  believe  he  didn't  care  a 
damn."  The  conversation  dragged  on  and  on,  until 
Blagden's  whole  body  was  aching  with  the  nervous 
tension  of  frightful  suspense.  "  If  he'd  only  send 
Berkeley  away  and  begin  !  "  he  groaned,  as  he  fought 
against  the  impulse  to  take  a  drink  of  the  brandy. 

At  last  Berkeley  rose,  yawned  cavernously.  "  I'll 
be  off  to  bed,"  said  he. 

"  Better  finish  your  cigar,"  urged  Murdock. 

Berkeley  tossed  it  into  an  ash  tray.  "  I  forgot 
373 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   'NEW 

and  lighted  one  more  than  my  allowance.     Come  on, 
Blagden.     He  wants  to  go  to  bed." 

"  Don't  go  just  yet,"  said  Murdock  to  Blagden. 
"  I  want  a  word  with  you." 

The  secretary  shivered;  for  Murdock's  tone  was 
-  unnatural,  ominous.  Had  Sophy  telegraphed  him  di 
rect?  It  was  most  dangerous,  this  conduct  in  a  man 
who  had  always  theretofore  been  for  dispatching  an 
affair  forthwith.  As  the  sound  of  the  outer  door  clos 
ing  behind  Berkeley  came  to  them,  Murdock  said: 
"Splendid  chap,  physically — Berkeley — isn't  he?" 

"  Superb,"  replied  Blagden. 

"How  he  does  enjoy  life!"  continued  Murdock. 
"  He  drinks  it  as  a  connoisseur  drinks  a  fine  wine — • 
tasting  each  drop." 

"  That's  why  he's  unattractive  to  me,  I  fancy," 
said  Blagden.  "  He  seems  so — so  lacking  in  gener 
osity." 

"Generosity?  My  dear  Blagden,  no  man  who  has 
made  his  own  fortune  is  ever  generous.  The  habit  of 
insisting  on  full  value  for  each  dollar — and  more — is 
too  strongly  developed." 

I  "  I've  seen  no  sign  of  it  in  you."  Blagden  took  on 
a  judicially  impersonal  air  whenever  he  thus  frankly 
flattered,  and  so  carried  it  off  without  offense  or 
seeming  of  degradation. 

"  I  won  by  gambling,  chiefly,"  replied  Murdock. 
"  Then,  too,  perhaps,  I  keep  my  true  disposition  a 
little  better  concealed.  Few  of  us  have  the  courage  to 
be  as  frankly  Sybarite  as  Tom.  We  lie  to  others  and 
to  ourselves  about  our  real  tastes  and  methods  and 
motives.  Deception — self-deception !  "  He  smiled 
grimly.  "  We  go  through  life — most  of  us — knowing 
less  about  ourselves  than  we  do  about  our  most  casual 

374 


BLAGDEN'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR 

acquaintances.  That's  because,  when  we  study  our 
selves,  we  study  our  minds  instead  of  our  acts — our 
selves  in  repose,  and  sleeked  up  for  inspection,  instead 
of  in  action." 

The  secretary  flamed  and  paled.  Was  this  a  hit 
at  him?  Was  this  the  sardonic  glitter  of  the  jaws  of 
a  trap? 

"  Acts !  "  repeated  Murdock,  with  an  absent-mind 
edness  that  seemed  studied  to  the  unnerved  Blagden. 
"  Acts  reveal  the  man.  Not  what  he  professes  or  im 
agines — not  the  lies  he  tells  himself  in  excuse  or  in 
flattery.  Only  acts  count." 

Blagden  set  his  teeth  together  hard.  He  felt  that 
Murdock  was  indeed  playing  with  him  as  cat  with 
mouse.  He  grew  weak,  sick  from  head  to  foot. 

Murdock  lapsed  into  silence.  Presently  he  said, 
musingly,  "  Still,  Tom  Berkeley  is  happy — happy  in 
mind  and  in  body — exasperatingly  sane — but  happy 
because  of  it.  He  drinks  the  wine  of  life  alone,  but 
he  can  enjoy  it  that  way.  I  envy  him." 

Murdock  had  dropped  into  the  corner  of  the 
lounge  where  his  face  was  shaded  from  the  light.  Af 
ter  a  few  silent  puffs  at  his  cigar,  he  almost  exploded 
an  interrogative,  "Well?" 

Blagden  shook  his  head,  wet  his  lips  several  times. 
"  I  regret  to  have  to  report,  sir,"  he  said  constrain 
edly,  "  that  I've  failed." 

"Didn't  you  see  her?"  demanded  Murdock 
sharply.  The  false  note  in  his  envoy's  voice  had  not 
escaped  him. 

"  Yes— certainly." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

Blagden  nerved  himself.  "  She's  determined  to 
go  on." 

375 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

Murdock  sank  deeper  among  the  cushions.  His 
cigar  dropped  from  between  his  relaxing  fingers  to  the 
floor.  Blagden  tried  in  vain  to  see  his  face.  "  What 
does  that  mean  ?  "  he  inquired,  after  a  moment. 

"  To  go  on  with  the  divorce." 

"  Her  exact  words  ?  " 

"  She — she — said — said  a  great  deal.  I — "  Blag- 
den  with  trembling  fingers  picked  up  Murdock's  fallen 
cigar,  slowly  crossed  the  room  to  put  it  in  an  ash 
bowl. 

"  You  misunderstood  her,"  said  Murdock  bluntly. 

Blagden  clenched  his  teeth;  his  nails  bit  into  his 
palms. 

"  You'll  have  to  go  back." 

Instantly  Blagden  relaxed,  grew  weak  in  the  re 
vulsion.  It  was  now  clear  that  his  fears  had  been 
groundless,  that  Murdock  had  been  hesitating  and  put 
ting  off  through  dread  lest  the  result  of  the  mission 
would  not  be  what  he  longed.  No,  Murdock  knew: 
nothing,  or  he'd  not  be  saying,  "  You'll  have  to  go 
back."  Blagden  spoke  out  boldly :  "  She  made  herself 
very  clear,  sir.  She  said :  c  Tell  him  a  reconciliation 
or  any  arrangement  but  absolute  and  immediate  di 
vorce  is  impossible.  Tell  him  I  shall  expect  him  to 
abide  by  the  terms  agreed  on  with  my  lawyers.' ' 

Murdock  slowly  lifted  himself,  stood,  paced  the 
floor,  his  head  bent,  his  hands  behind  his  back.  At  one 
end  of  the  room  he  would  pause  to  stare  up  into  the 
leaves  of  the  huge  palm ;  at  the  other  end  he  would  halt 
to  gaze  absently  down  upon  the  books  and  magazines 
littering  a  table.  He  kept  muttering,  "  She  never 
said  that — never."  In  those  ten  minutes  Blagden  real 
ized  what  few  human  beings  ever  have  opportunity  to 
realize  in  their  whole  lives — that  there  actually  can  be 

376 


*BL~AGDEN'S  BAD   QUARTER  HOUR 

mental  anguish  more  savage,  more  searching  than  the 
fiercest  physical  pain.  Suddenly  Murdock  wheeled 
sharply  upon  him.  "What  did  you  say  to  her?"  he 
demanded.  And  those  blue  eyes  of  his  seemed  to  Blag- 
den  to  be  searching  every  corner  of  his  soul  under  a 
flooding  light. 

"  I — I —  We  talked — mostly  commonplaces. 
Naturally,  I  would  not  presume  to " 

But  Murdock  had  already  turned  away.  He  had 
instantly  dismissed  the  vagrant  suspicion  as  merely 
the  precaution  of  his  habit  of  neglecting  no  possibility 
however  preposterous,  in  the  surrey  of  a  situation.  He 
resumed  his  muttering,  not  so  low  that  the  words  es 
caped  Blagden's  terror-sharpened  ears.  "  Who  can  it 
have  been?  .  .  .  She  never  made  up  her  mind  to  that 
— alone.  .  .  .  Probably  those  lawyers.  .  .  .  Yes,  it 
must  have  been  those  greedy  jackals.  I  must  fix  her 
property  so  they  can't  get  it  away  from  her.  .  .  . 
Yes,  the  lawyers." 

Murdock  flung  himself  at  full  length  on  the  lounge 
and,  his  hands  clasped  under  his  head,  stared  up  at  the 
lofty  ceiling.  Usually,  when  he  found  an  explanation 
that  explained,  he  dismissed  a  problem  as  solved ;  but  he 
could  not  dismiss  this.  "  What  difference  does  it  make 
how  she  happened  to  do  what  I  wanted?  "  he  said  to 
himself,  irritated  that  his  mind  continued  to  vex  itself 
with  the  trifle  and  refused  to  relax  and  enjoy  the  all- 
important  fact  that  he  had  gained  his  point. 

"  If  you'll  permit  me,  sir,"  began  the  secretary 
timidly. 

"Yes?  "said  Murdock. 

"  There  can  be  no  possible  doubt  of  Mrs.  Murdock's 
meaning.  Her  manner  was  very  convincing.  She  said : 
*  He  offered  me  freedom  and  independence.  I  accepted. 
25  377 


OLD   WIVES  FOR  NEW 

Now,  I'll  not  draw  back.'  Perhaps  I'm  doing  no  good 
by  repeating  it,  but  she  seemed  very  bitter  against  you, 
had  a  very  false — I  assured  her  in  vain  it  was  false — 
notion  about  you  and — a  lady." 

Murdock  stirred.  "  No  matter !  "  said  he.  "  I'm 
convinced  you're  not  mistaken." 

"  I  simply  couldn't  be,"  reiterated  Blagden.  "  Lan 
guage  could  not  have  been  clearer  than  hers  was.  And 
her  manner  was  most — most  resolute." 

Murdock  sat  up,  waved  his  arm  in  dismissal  of  the 
subject.  Blagden,  restless,  began  to  wander  about  the 
room.  He  saw  and  touched  a  bundle  on  the  chair  by 
the  table.  "  Something  for  me  to  look  after,  sir  ?  " 
inquired  he. 

"  A  house  I've  taken  near  Nice  for  the  winter.  Look 
at  them."  He  joined  Blagden,  opened  the  bundle,  fell  to 
exhibiting  and  discussing  the  prints  and  photographs. 
The  chief  difference  between  youth  and  age  is  youth's 
energetic,  impatient  enthusiasm,  age's  lack  of  it ;  and  this 
difference,  physical  in  its  origin,  is  mental  in  its  first 
deep  effects,  thence  gradually  reacting  with  ever-increas 
ing  power  upon  the  physical  appearance.  Murdock  had 
retained  almost  unimpaired  this  fresh  and  vivid  interest 
in  life ;  but  during  the  past  ten  years  it  had  been  sub 
dued  by  his  responsibilities  and  anxieties  and  by  his 
constant  association  with  older  men.  To-night,  as  he 
talked  of  the  villa  by  the  Mediterranean  where  he  pur 
posed  to  spend  the  winter,  and  as  the  weight  of  his  mar 
riage  burden  rolled  from  him,  he  began  to  act  and  to 
look  like  a  boy.  Blagden  watched  him  grow  youthful 
with  the  same  sort  of  wonder  one  feels  in  watching  the 
performance  of  an  Oriental  magician.  There  was  to 
the  secretary  something  uncanny  about  this  transforma 
tion,  some  suggestion  of  Faust's  bargain  with  the  devil. 

378 


'BZAGDEN'S  BAD   QUARTER  HOUR 

Murdock  had  always  been  simple  and  direct  with  Blag- 
den,  but  had  kept  a  narrow  but  deep  gulf  between  them, 
the  gulf  of  his  natural  reserve  of  the  leader  who  is  forced 
consciously  or  unconsciously  to  keep  himself  wrapped  in 
the  mystery  that  is  his  best  aid  in  maintaining  discipline 
and  docility.  Now,  he  was  laughing  and  joking,  with 
eyes  sparkling  and  hands  active  in  free,  expansive  ges 
tures.  He  even  clapped  Blagden  upon  the  shoulder  two 
or  three  times.  And,  in  spite  of  himself,  Blagden  yielded 
to  his  magnetism,  began  really  to  like  him,  began  to  feel 
as  if  Murdock  were  his  friend,  to  forget  that  he  was  a 
person  to  be  hated,  to  be  envied,  to  be  courted  for  the 
sake  of  what  there  was  "  in  it." 

The  telephone  bell  clicked  insistently.  Murdock 
glanced  at  the  clock.  "  After  one !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Old  man,  I'm  sorry.  You  must  be  tired.  Why  didn't 
you  rein  me  in  ?  "  He  took  down  the  receiver.  As  he 
listened  his  face  clouded.  "  Where?  "  he  asked.  "  At 
the  house  in  Madison  Avenue?  Yes — yes — I'll  come  at 
once." 

He  hung  up  the  receiver.  "  Would  you  believe  it?  " 
he  cried  to  Blagden.  "  I  never  saw  Berkeley  looking  so 
fit  as  this  evening — and  in  the  best  spirits.  You  remem 
ber  what  we  were  saying.  Well — he's  been  taken  ill — 
dangerously  ill,  the  doctor  says — which  probably  means, 
as  usual,  simply  the  first  move  in  laying  the  foundation 
for  a  big  bill.  Let's  hope  so.  However,  I'm  going  over. 
Perhaps  you'd  be  willing  to  come."  Murdock  pressed  a 
button  in  the  wall  near  him.  "  It's  not  much  out  of  your 
way.  I'll  send  you  on  to  your  club,  and  the  cab  can 
come  back  for  me.  .  .  .  Simcox,  my  hat  and  a  light 
coat." 

"  The  air's  very  sharp,  sir,"  said  Simcox,  appearing 
in  the  doorway. 

379 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

"  The  light  one.  I  couldn't  stand  fur."  And  he  ex 
panded  his  chest,  threw  back  his  handsome  head,  his  eyes 
alight,  his  face  smiling.  "  What  selfish  beasts  we  are !  " 
thought  he.  "  Poor  Toml  Yet  I  can't  feel  it.  I  can't 
even  pretend." 


XXVIII 


ON  the  way  Murdock  said :  "  Fortunately,  Mrs. 
Berkeley  is  in  Washington.  This  house  we're  going  to — 
it's  where  Miss  Hollingshead  lives — the  actress." 

"  Has  Berkeley  taken  her  up?  I  thought  it  was  still 
Jessie  Pomeroy." 

"  He  drained  that  cup.  He  had  a  sudden  complete 
change  of  taste — from  buxom  maturity  to  the  greenest 
juvenility — to  Bertha  Hollingshead — not  eighteen — lit 
tle  and  thin — comic-opera  star — pretty,  but  the  exact 
opposite  of  all  Tom's  fancies  heretofore.  .  .  .  Queer 
man,  Tom.  There  are  many  sides  to  his  character  that 
one  sees  only  after  knowing  him  years." 

They  were  at  the  door  of  a  brown-stone  house — one 
of  a  row,  and  hidden  in  the  middle  of  the  row.  "  You 
are  to  go  straight  up  to  the  bedroom,  Mr.  Murdock," 
said  the  half-dressed  servant  who  opened  the  door  as 
they  ascended  the  steps.  "  We're  not  allowed  on  that 
floor — doctor's  orders." 

"  Wait  here  a  moment,  Blagden,"  said  Murdock,  and 
he  hurried  up  the  stairs. 

A  young  man,  looking  and  smelling  the  doctor,  was 
pacing  in  agitation  the  second-story  hall.  "  Mr.  Mur 
dock?  "  he  asked,  as  Murdock  reached  the  head  of  the 
stairs.  "  They  are  waiting  for  you."  And  he  opened 
the  door  of  a  small  salon.  Murdock  entered ;  the  young 

381 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   'NEW* 

doctor  followed  him,  closed  the  door  quickly  and  noise 
lessly.  "  Mr.  Berkeley  is  still  alive,"  said  he.  "  But  he 
can  live  only  a  few  minutes." 

Murdock,  astounded,  stared  at  the  young  man,  then 
gazed  round  the  room  as  if  seeking  the  explanation  of  a 
statement  so  unbelievable.  The  little  salon  was  gaudy, 
yet  not  altogether  without  taste,  and  it  had  individuality 
— the  individuality  of  a  gorgeous,  luxurious,  whimsical 
cocotte.  At  the  gilt  table  in  the  center  sat  a  girl,  child 
ishly  pretty,  her  artificially  waved  hair  in  disorder,  a  blue 
silk  dressing  gown  over  her  nightgown,  both  open  wide. 
There  was  a  faint  fascinating  tracery  of  tiny  blue  veins 
upon  her  white  shoulders  and  slim,  new-fledged  bosom. 
Her  small  face  rested  upon  her  hands  —  too  carefully 
manicured  hands,  which  still  suggested  that  they  had 
passed  through  rougher  days.  Her  large  eyes,  blue  in 
the  pale  way  of  the  earliest  violets,  were  glazed  and  fixed, 
staring  straight  before  her,  as  if  she  were  out  of  her 
mind.  The  young  doctor  stopped  the  nervous  twisting 
of  the  tail  of  his  little  blond  Vandyke,  touched  her  gently 
on  the  shoulder.  As  if  his  touch  had  carried  a  terrific 
electric  shock  she  bounded  to  her  feet,  opened  her  mouth 
to  an  incredible  width,  showing  its  whole  interior,  red  as 
a  ripe  watermelon.  Just  in  time,  the  doctor  seized  her 
by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  clapped  his  palm  over  her 
lips,  and  partly  stifled  the  scream  which  was  issuing. 

"  Hush !  "  he  commanded  sternly.     "  Hush,  I  say !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  take  me,"  she  moaned,  sinking  back 
into  the  chair.  "  I  didn't  kill  him !  I  swear  to  God 
I  didn't." 

"  This  isn't  the  police.  It's  Mr.  Murdock."  And  he 
grasped  her  bare  shoulder  and  shook  her.  "  Mr.  Mur 
dock  !  "  he  repeated,  as  if  she  were  deaf. 

But   Murdock   was   not   heeding.      The  instant   he 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

grasped  what  had  happened  he  saw  its  full  meaning  for 
him.  Another  delay!  For,  such  a  scandal  as  this — 
about  his  ex-partner  and  most  intimate  friend — could 
not  but  stir  up  a  storm  that  would  compel  him  to  put 
off  his  divorce,  in  justice  to  Juliet.  He  could  hear 
press,  pulpit,  public  shrieking  about  the  "  loose  morals," 
the  "  lawless  lives."  He  could  hear  the  hue  and  cry  for 
"  the  woman  in  the  case  " — and  they'd  find  her — and 
would  pillory  her. 

"  This  must  be  hushed  up !  "  he  cried.  Then,  remem 
bering  himself,  he  looked  at  the  young  actress  who  was 
staring  vaguely  at  him.  "  Don't  you  know  me,  Bertha  ?  " 
he  asked,  standing  directly  in  front  of  her. 

She  gazed  up  at  him,  slowly  became  reassured.  "  7 
didn't  kill  him,  Mr.  Murdock,"  she  pleaded.  Her  eyes 
closed,  she  shuddered,  collapsed  in  a  heap  in  the  big 
chair. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Berkeley?"  asked  Murdock  of  the 
doctor. 

The  young  man  indicated  a  door  to  the  right.  "  Go 
in,"  he  said.  "  I  must  stay  here.  She's  got  a  scant 
spoonful  of  brains,  and  they're  thoroughly  addled  now. 
I've  been  having  the  devil's  own  time  with  her." 

Murdock  opened  the  door,  was  in  a  bedroom — evi 
dently  a  woman's  bedroom,  with  wall  coverings  and 
hangings  of  pale-blue  silk,  the  ceiling  a  fresco  of  Venus 
charioted  by  Cupids,  the  bed  with  hand-painted  head  and 
footboards,  its  pale-blue  silk  coverings  tossed  this  way 
and  that  upon  footboard  and  floor.  In  the  bed  lay 
Berkeley  at  full  length,  his  coat,  waistcoat,  and  pumps 
removed,  his  shirt  and  undershirt  cut  away,  baring  the 
white,  firm,  muscular  flesh  and  curling  gray  hair  of  his 
broad,  flat  chest.  Over  him,  on  either  side,  were  bending 
Dr.  Presbury  and  another.  Presbury  was  probing  into 

383 


OLID    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

a  round  ringed  hole  just  above  the  heart.  As  Murdock 
reached  the  foot  of  the  bed  Presbury  straightened  him 
self  with  a  grunt  of  irritation.  "  Hell !  "  he  muttered. 

In  Berkeley's  voice  came,  "  No  use,  eh,  doctor?  " 

"  Here's  Mr.  Murdock,"  replied  Presbury. 

With  an  effort  Berkeley  turned  his  head.  His  face 
was  yellow,  the  cheeks  sunken,  the  piglike  nose  a  frozen 
white,  the  eyes  withdrawn  far  into  the  head  and  sur 
rounded  by  deep  circles  of  blue-black,  like  bruises.  They 
were  unmistakably  the  eyes  of  a  dying  man ;  theirs  was 
that  look  of  everlasting  farewell  which  appears  even  when 
lying  hope  still  reigns  within.  Berkeley  smiled  faintly 
in  the  direction  of  Murdock.  "  Suppose  it's  you, 
Charles,"  said  he,  hoarsely  and  jerkily.  "  Can't  see  your 
features.  Hell  of  a  mess — eh?  " 

Murdock's  face  was  showing  that  sincerity  of  sympa 
thy  and  tenderness  of  which  only  strong  natures,  strongly 
roused,  are  capable.  For  the  moment  he  almost  forgot 
his  own  plight.  He  seated  himself  on  the  bed.  "  What 
can  I  do  ?  "  said  he. 

Berkeley's  eyes  were  closed.  He  stopped  his  horrible 
gasping  for  breath,  drew  his  wide-open  mouth  together 
enough  to  say,  "  Tell  him  about  it,  Presbury." 

"  He  came  here  after  midnight,"  explained  Presbury 
rapidly,  raising  his  voice  to  make  it  reach  above  the  noise 
of  Berkeley's  gulpings  for  breath.  "  The  servants  had 
gone  to  bed.  Hollingshead  herself  answered — she  was 
rather  expecting  him.  A  woman  rushed  up  the  steps  and 
entered  with  him " 

"  Jessie !  "  gasped  Berkeley.  "  It  was  Jess,  Mur 
dock  !  The — "  He  ended  with  a  vile  epithet. 

"  Hollingshead,  in  a  fright,  ran  up  the  stairs,  the 
woman  after  her,"  Presbury  went  on.  "  Berkeley  fol 
lowed  —  caught  up  with  them  in  the  salon  —  tried  to 

384 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

wrench  the  pistol  away  from  Jessie.    It  went  off — or  she 
fired  in  a  rage — 

"  She  said  she'd  kill  me,  since  I  wouldn't  let  her  kill 
Bertha,"  gasped  Berkeley.  "  God !  Qod !  "  And  he 
resumed  the  frightful  clamorous  gulping  for  air. 

"  The  woman  shot — ran — downstairs — out — away. 
Hollingshead  telephoned  for  me,  without  rousing  the 
servants." 

Berkeley's  hand  fumbled  about  for  Murdock's, 
caught  it,  held  it  in  a  grasp  so  fierce  that  it  pained. 
"  This  must  be  hushed  up,"  he  said.  "  You  can  do  it, 
Charley." 

"  Yes,"  said  Murdock.    "  It  shall  be  hushed  up." 

Presbury  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  It  has  been 
done  in  such  cases — a  good  many  times." 

"  I  tell  you  it  must  be  done ! "  said  Berkeley.  He 
raised  himself  in  the  bed.  "  It  must  be  done !  My 
reputation  must  be  saved,  God  damn  it ! " 

The  blood  poured  from  his  mouth,  from  his  ears, 
spouted  over  his  bare  chest,  so  white  and  strong-looking, 
drenched  the  curling  gray  hair  there.  He  fell  back  dead, 
his  eyes  and  mouth  wide,  streaks  of  blood  upon  his  cheeks, 
a  broad,  trickling,  crimson  smear  down  his  chin  and 
throat.  And  the  long,  humorous  thrust  of  the  piglike 
nose  made  the  face  seem  a  grotesque  mask,  sensual  as  a 
satyr,  foolish  as  a  clown. 

"  A  hell  of  a  mess,"  said  Presbury,  looking  disgust 
edly  at  the  dead  man  and  the  rivulets  of  blood  running 
off  his  body. 

Murdock  roused  himself.  "  We  must  get  to  work," 
said  he  sharply.  The  corpse  was  not  his  friend  Berke 
ley,  but  an  obstacle  to  his  plans  that  must  be  removed. 
"  Let  your  assistant  attend  to  this.  Come  into  the  next 
room." 

385 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

Bertha  was  lying  on  the  sofa  now,  in  a  deep  sleep, 
and  the  young  doctor  was  slowly  pacing  the  floor. 
"  What  do  you  advise  ?  "  asked  Murdock  of  Presbury . 

"  What's  the  use?    Let  it  come  out." 

"  No,"  said  Murdock.  "  I  simply  meant,  what  must 
be  done  to  hush  it  up  ?  " 

"  The  woman's  running  wild  —  probably  telling 
everybody." 

"  Not  likely,"  said  Murdock.  "  The  chances  are  a 
million  to  one  the  instant  she  saw  what  she'd  done  she 
came  to  her  senses " 

"  Servants  always  suspect." 

Murdock  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  reflected. 
"  We'll  take  him  to  the  hotel,"  he  finally  said,  "  and  have 
him  die  there  of — say,  of  heart  disease?  " 

"  The  servants  know  he's  here,"  objected  Presbury. 
"  We  mustn't  try  to  conceal  too  much." 

Murdock  frowned  impatiently.  "  We  can  disregard 
the  servants.  Who'd  dare  publish  their  whisperings, 
with  you  doctors  and  me  against  them — and  all  the  sur 
face  appearances  correct?  " 

"  The  authorities — the  coroner — the  district  attor 
ney,"  reminded  Presbury. 

"  I  can  take  care  of  them  if  it  becomes  necessary. 
The  main  point  is  to  get  Tom  to  the  hotel." 

"  But  all  those  bloody  clothes  in  there?  " 

"  We'll  take  them  along.  Hollingshead's  servants 
will  think  it  natural  that  his  friends  should  get  him  out 
of  this  house." 

"  But — "  Presbury  pointed  to  the  young  woman  in 
the  morphine  stupor  on  the  lounge. 

"  She  must  sail  for  Europe  in  the  morning — with 
our  young  friend  here  on  the  same  steamer.  Money 
will  keep  her  quiet — for  the  time — and  that's  all  that's 

386 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

necessary.     The  next  few  days  —  weeks  —  are  the  cru 
cial » 

"  Impossible,  Murdock,"  said  Presbury.  "  Impos 
sible.  The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  less  feasible  it  is." 

Murdock  rose,  laid  his  hand  strongly  on  the  doctor's 
shoulder.  "  Not  only  not  impossible,  but  easy." 

"  I  don't  see  it.  I'm  willing  to  take  long  chances. 
But — if  we're  caught 

"  We'll  not  be  caught.  It  will  cost  something,  but 
there'll  be  no  scandal.  You  and  your  assistants  will  dress 
Berkeley.  We  will  send  the  house  servants  upstairs.  We 
will  ourselves  carry  him  to  a  carriage,  and  take  him  up 
to  his  apartment  in  the  hotel  by  the  private  entrance. 
He  will  die  there  to-morrow  or,  rather,  this  afternoon, 
or  next  day,  with  his  wife  by  his  side.  Simcox,  my  valet 
— he's  my  friend,  too,  perhaps  the  best  I've  got  in  the 
world — will  come  here  before  we  leave.  He'll  take  charge, 
lock  up  these  rooms,  hold  the  servants  together  for  a 
week,  then  pay  them  off  and  dismantle  the  house." 

Presbury's  long,  thin  finger  was  pointing  to  the  floor 
in  front  of  the  sofa  where  the  girl  lay.  There  was  a 
great  dark  stain  upon  the  light  carpet.  Murdock,  on 
impulse  that  showed  how  matters  were  with  him  beneath 
his  smooth,  languid  surface,  dragged  a  rug  across  the 
room  and  covered  the  stain.  "  Simcox  will  attend  to 
that.  Now,  to  work.  My  secretary's  in  the  hall  down 
stairs.  I'll  send  him  for  a  carriage." 

Presbury  bent  over  the  sleeping  girl.  "  She's  safe 
for  an  hour  or  so,"  said  he.  "  Come  on,  Dodge." 

The  two  doctors  entered  the  bedroom  and  closed  the 
door.  Murdock  went  into  the  hall  and  called  Blagden. 
When  they  were  together  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  he 
said  in  an  undertone :  "  Berkeley  has  had  an  attack  of 
heart  disease.  He  may  not  live.  We  are  going  to  move 

387 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

him  to  the  hotel.     He  can't  be  allowed  to  die  in  this 
house." 

Blagden's  expression  was  peculiar. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Murdock. 

"  The  butler  down  there  says  he  thinks  he  heard  a 
shot." 

"  Butlers  always  think  they  hear  shots.  Please  go 
to  the  hotel  and  send  Simcox  at  once.  And  come  back 
in  half  an  hour — not  sooner — with  a  carriage.  Don't 
get  out  of  the  carnage ;  just  have  the  coachman  draw  up 
in  front  of  the  door." 

"And  Berkeley's  valet?" 

"  Urn — yes —  See  him  at  once.  Tell  him  Berkeley's 
very  ill.  Send  him  off  to  Washington  by  the  newspaper 
train  to  help  Mrs.  Berkeley  hurry  here.  He'll  barely 
have  time  to  catch  it.  Telephone  the  station  master  at 
Jersey,  so  he'll  have  no  trouble."  Murdock  gave 
Blagden's  arm  a  friendly  pressure.  "  I  appreciate  your 
thinking  of  that  chap,  Blagden." 

The  secretary  had  a  thrill  of  that  pleasure  wherewith 
any  recognition  however  trivial  from  the  great  fills  the 
less.  "  I'll  hustle  him  off.  Shall  I  telegraph  Mrs.  Berke 
ley?  " 

"  Yes — to  be  delivered  at  seven  o'clock.  It  would  be 
useless  to  disturb  her  earlier." 

It  was  Blagden's  turn  to  admire  and  wonder — Mur 
dock,  hard,  cold,  inconsiderate,  yet  in  this  hour  of  excite 
ment,  thinking  of  such  a  trifle  as  the  sleep  of  a  woman 
who  was  nothing  to  him,  a  woman  he  did  not  like. 
"  Everything  shall  be  attended  to,"  said  Blagden. 
"  Some  one  ought  to  talk  to  the  butler  about  his  notion 
that  there  was  a  shot."  He  looked  directly  and  signifi 
cantly  at  Murdock.  "  He  is  very  positive — and  prob 
ably  garrulous." 

388 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

"  I'll  see  to  that,"  said  Murdock.  "  On  second 
thought,  send  the  carriage  and  stay  at  the  hotel.  Wait 
at  the  private  entrance." 

Blagden  hastened  away;  Murdock  returned  to  the 
salon.  Bertha,  still  asleep,  was  lying  on  her  back  now 
and  breathing  rather  heavily  through  her  open  mouth; 
but  the  sight  was  not  unattractive,  so  childlike  did  she 
look.  Murdock  gazed  at  her  pityingly,  then  roused  her 
by  shaking  her  with  gentle  firmness.  She  pushed  back 
her  thick  waving  hair,  passed  her  hand  over  her  eyes 
several  times,  gradually  returned  to  consciousness  and  to 
pain  and  terror.  Murdock's  gaze  was  steady  and  stern ; 
before  it  she  slowly  settled  against  the  back  of  the  sofa 
and  began  to  weep. 

"  You  are  awake?  "  said  he.  "  You  hear  me?  You 
understand  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Tom  is  dead." 

She  gave  a  startled  cry.  "  I  didn't  shoot  him.  Be 
fore  God  I  didn't !  "  And  she  clasped  her  hands  stagily, 
and  her  waved  hair  fell  in  clusters  about  her  pretty 
childish  face  and  throat. 

"  We  do  not  care  to  hear  anything  about  that,"  Mur 
dock  interrupted  commandingly.  "  We  purpose  to  hush 
up  this  scandal.  You  are  to  leave  for  Europe  by  the 
first  steamer  that  sails  in  the  morning.  Dr.  Dodge  is  to 
accompany  you.  Whether  you  are  guilty  or  not,  we  will 
protect  you — if  you  behave  yourself." 

Like  all  people  of  feeble  mentality  and  strong  primal 
emotions  her  first  instinct  was  to  oppose ;  she  drew  down 
her  brows  and  her  mouth  sullenly.  "  I'll  not  go,"  said 
she.  "  I've  done  nothing  wrong." 

"Who  shot  Mr.  Berkeley?"  asked  Murdock,  his 
voice  cold. 

389 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I  don't  know  her,"  Bertha  whimpered.  "  She  fol 
lowed  him  in,  and " 

"She?    Who?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Then  it  is  your  word  against  all  these  circum 
stances.  But  if  you  go  quietly  away  you  will  get  into 
no  trouble.  There  will  be  no  scandal.  We  will  take  Mr. 
Berkeley  to  his  hotel,  and  he  will  die  of  heart  disease 
there." 

"  My  God,  and  I  have  no  money ! "  cried  Bertha. 
66  He  always  kept  me  close.  He  was  a  dog — a  dog !  " 
She  checked  herself  in  terror.  She  fell  on  her  knees  be 
fore  him.  "  No,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  she  moaned. 
"  You  mustn't  use  it  against  me." 

Murdock  seemed  inexorable.  "  Nothing  will  be 
used  against  you  if  you  do  as  I  say — do  what  is  best 
for  you.  And  you  will  be  well  taken  care  of."  He 
took  out  his  pocketbook,  took  from  it  several  bills  of 
large  denomination,  tossed  them  into  her  lap  as  she 
sat  upon  her  heels  on  the  floor.  He  smiled  satirically 
at  her  instant  change  of  expression — tribute  to  the 
shrewdness  of  his  guess  as  to  the  wisest  way  quickly  to 
come  to  terms  with  the  sort  of  human  nature  before 
him. 

"  Then  I'll  go,"  said  she.  Now,  she  felt  she  was 
secure.  The  sight  of  the  money  had  brought  home  to 
her  how  powerful  a  protector  she  had  in  Murdock, 
had  convinced  her  that  he  was  sincere.  "  Anyhow," 
she  went  on,  "  I  want  to  get  away  from  all  this  and  try 
to  forget  it.  Oh,  I  wish  I'd  never  seen  him!  What 
have  I  got  out  of  it?  Nothing  but  promises  I  knew 
he'd  not  keep,  though  I  was  fool  enough  to  live  on 
them."  Not  thinking  what  she  was  doing,  she  thrust 
a  slim  girlish  leg  from  her  skirts  and  tucked  the  bills 

390 


REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 


into  the  thin  blue  silk  stocking.  "  I  did  whatever  he 
wanted  just  because  he  was  rich;  and  a  comparatively 
poor  man  would  have  done  better  by  me.  ...  I  must 
go  into — "  She  turned  her  eyes  slowly,  timidly  to 
ward  the  door  behind  which  lay  the  tragedy. 

"  You  can't  get  into  your  bedroom  for  half  an 
hour." 

She  shuddered.     "I'd  not  dare  go!" 

"  Dr.  Dodge  will  pack  for  you.  You  needn't  take 
much  along.  He'll  see  that  you  get  everything — in 
Paris." 

At  that  magic  word — Paris — her  mind  was  off  her 
woes  again,  was  flitting  up  and  down  the  Rue  de  la 
Paix  which  she  had  been  dreaming  of  and  longing  for 
ever  since  she  outgrew  dreaming  of  and  longing  for 
Heaven.  "  A  trunk  and  all  I  really  need  are  in  my 
dressing  room.  I  can  get  in  there  from  the  hall." 

She  rose  from  the  floor,  light,  graceful,  eager,  as  if 
she  were  making  an  entrance  on  the  stage.  Murdock 
accompanied  her  to  the  hall  door  of  the  dressing  room, 
saw  her  safely  in  and  busy  with  her  trunk  and  travel 
ing  bag  and  humming  under  her  breath  one  of  the 
gay  tunes  of  her  opera.  There  was  a  bitter  smile 
on  his  somber  face  as  he  turned  away.  The  last  time 
he  had  seen  her  with  Berkeley,  she  was  on  his  knee, 
mussing  his  hair,  pulling  his  ears  and  calling  him 
fond  names  in  melting  tones.  "  But  why  not  ?  "  he 
reflected.  "  Tom  wanted  only  what  he  paid  for — and 
he  got  it." 

In  the  bedroom  he  found  Presbury  and  Dodge 
dressing  Berkeley's  still  warm  body  and  lightening  the 
labor  by  cheerful,  half- jesting  remarks.  Brierly,  the 
other  physician,  was  making  into  two  small  and  com 
pact  bundles  all  the  blood-stained  articles.  "  The  mat- 

891 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW 

tress  is  hopeless,"  said  he,  pausing  to  look  up  at  Mur- 
dock.  "You'll  see,  when  they  get  him  dressed  and 
off  it." 

"  Simcox  will  attend  to  that,"  said  Murdock. 
"  Fortunately,  it's  not  too  late  in  the  season  for  furnace 
fires.  .  .  .  There'll  be  plenty  of  time.  No  one  but  Sim- 
cox  will  ever  see  this  room  as  it  is." 

"  He's  ready — even  to  the  shoes,"  Presbury  now 
announced.  "  We  found  a  business  outfit  of  his,  com 
plete,  and  dressed  him  in  that.  Dodge  suggests  that 
at  the  hotel  we'd  better  perform  an  operation  that'll 
hide  the  wound.  Bright  idea,  that — original."  He 
laughed  at  the  assistant,  went  on  ironically,  "  You've 
got  brains,  Dodge — real  brains.  What  a  mess  we'd 
have  made  without  you." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Murdock  absently.  He  was  star 
ing,  sick  and  fascinated,  at  Berkeley's  figure,  fully 
dressed  and  propped  to  a  half-sitting,  half-reclining 
position.  He  felt  that  his  stomach  was  about  to  give 
way.  No  one,  not  used  to  the  sight  of  death,  can  view 
it  unmoved;  and  when  it  is  stripped  of  all  dignity,  as 
it  was  there,  its  effect  is  not  melancholy  but  repulsive. 
"  I  must  get  the  butler  out  of  the  way,"  said  he, 
hastily  leaving  the  room. 

In  the  lower  hall  was  Simcox,  as  always  like  a  fu 
neral  mute,  with  the  disheveled,  half-dressed  butler 
talking  excitedly  to  him.  Murdock  took  him  into  the 
reception  room  and  closed  the  door.  "  Mr.  Blagden 
told  you  what  has  happened?  "  he  began. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Simcox.  "I've  just  been  assur 
ing  the  butler  he  was  mistaken  about  the  shot." 

"  We  are  going  to  carry  Mr.  Berkeley  away.  You 
will  take  full  charge  here — keep  the  servants  to  their 
own  quarters  until  morning — yourself  straighten  out 

392 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

the  room  upstairs,  and  lock  it  up  till  you've  paid  off 
and  got  rid  of  the  servants.  You  understand?" 

"  Perfectly,  sir." 

"  You  will  find  things  that  might  lead  people  to 
believe  Mr.  Berkeley  was  a  victim  of  violence.  No  one 
else  must  see  those  things.  They  must  be  got  out  of 
sight  before  morning.  Then,  they  must  be  burned." 

"  They  will  be,  sir.     In  the  furnace." 

Years  of  close  association  with  Murdock  had  given 
the  valet  the  master's  imperturbable  manner  and,  by 
reaction  of  exterior  upon  interior,  much  of  Murdock's 
calmness  and  decision.  Murdock  put  out  his  hand  and 
Simcox  took  it.  "  I  trust  you — entirely,"  said  Mur 
dock.  "  It's  an  ugly  business,  but  you  and  I  will  see 
it  through.  It's  important  for  me,  personally — most 
important — that  this  be  smoothed  over." 

Simcox's  only  change  was  in  the  eyes.  He  showed 
there  that  Murdock  had  now  roused  him  to  the  kind 
of  interest  which  quickens  the  mind  like  cocaine.  All 
he  said  was  his  usual  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  When  you  get  the  butler  on  the  top  floor,  and 
are  sure  the  lower  part  of  the  house  is  clear,  come  to 
the  salon  just  over  this  room." 

Murdock  peered  through  the  shutters ;  the  carriage 
had  come.  He  went  back  to  the  second  floor,  waited 
in  the  salon  until  Simcox  appeared.  He  opened  the 
bedroom  door.  "  Now !  "  said  he  to  Presbury. 

Simcox  preceded,  with  the  two  bundles ;  then  came 
the  doctors  bearing  Berkeley  as  if  he  were  helplessly 
drunk  or  ill ;  then  Murdock.  The  procession  descended 
the  stairs,  passed  out  into  the  deserted  street.  Two 
blocks  up,  under  a  lamp-post,  stood  a  policeman;  but 
he  happened  to  be  looking  the  other  way.  As  they 
lifted  the  body  into  the  carriage,  Brierly  for  the 
26  393 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

benefit  of  the  coachman,  gave  two  deep,  agonized 
groans.  And  again  Murdock  all  but  staggered  under  a 
wave  of  nausea;  Presbury  muttered  in  a  jocose  under 
tone,  "  Good  business,  Brierly.  You  must  do  that 
again,  and  curse  a  little,  as  we  lift  him  out." 

"  Drive  slowly  and  very  carefully,  coachman," 
cautioned  Murdock,  the  last  to  enter.  He  put  his 
hand  out  through  the  window  and  shook  the  hand  of  his 
valet  once  more.  "  I  count  on  you,  Simcox,"  said  he. 
As  the  carriage  drove  away,  he  saw  Dodge  and  Simcox 
reentering  the  house. 

The  short  drive  was  made  in  silence.  Brierly  sat 
beside  the  corpse,  Presbury  opposite  it,  Murdock  next 
him  and  grateful  for  the  sharp  night  air  blowing  full 
upon  his  face,  damp  with  the  sweat  of  weakness  and 
nausea.  The  two  blood-soaked  bundles  were  in  the  lap 
of  the  corpse,  Presbury  steadying  them.  Once  Mur 
dock  shot  a  glance  at  his  dead  friend,  tottering  in  stiff 
lifelessness  with  every  slight  motion  of  the  carriage. 
The  head  was  covered  with  a  fur  cap  drawn  well  down ; 
its  visor  hid  the  upper  part  of  the  face,  but  Murdock 
saw  the  lower  part — the  fallen  jaw,  the  protruding 
tongue.  "God!"  he  muttered.  "God!"  And  his 
brain  and  his  stomach  reeled. 

At  the  private  entrance  to  the  hotel  stood  Blagden. 
He  came  to  the  curb,  leaned  in  at  the  carriage  window. 
"  I've  been  able  to  get  the  porter  away,"  said  he. 
"  Told  him  you  were  bringing  Berkeley  home  consid 
erably  soused  and  didn't  want  anyone  to  see.  The 
door's  open." 

"  Good !  "  said  Presbury.  "  It  begins  to  look  as  if 
we'd  succeed." 

The  corpse  was  far  into  the  rigor  mortis  now  and 
exceedingly  difficult  to  handle.  Murdock  and  Blagden 

394 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

took  each  a  bundle ;  Murdock  engaged  the  coachman  in 
a  discussion  about  the  fare.  Brierlj  groaned  and 
cursed  loudly  enough  for  the  coachman  to  hear.  Pres 
bury  assisted  the  deception  with  soothing,  reassuring 
remarks.  "  Patience,  Mr.  Berkeley.  .  .  .  Just  a  mo 
ment,  now.  .  .  .  We're  doing  the  best  we  can."  As 
soon  as  the  body  was  clear  of  the  carriage,  Blagden 
shut  the  door.  Murdock  handed  the  coachman  a  bill, 
and  before  the  strangely  burdened  group  had  got 
within  the  narrow  private  entrance,  the  coach  was  far 
down  the  street.  The  ascent  of  four  flights  of  narrow 
stairway  was  made  with  the  greatest  awkwardness. 
Once  Brierly  lost  his  hold  on  the  corpse  and  it  rolled 
heavily  against  Presbury  who,  as  the  stronger,  was 
behind  with  Blagden  to  assist.  Presbury  staggered, 
almost  fell  backwards  down  the  stairs.  After  that 
Presbury  went  in  front  and  took  the  corpse  by  the 
collar,  dragging  it  upward,  the  two  others  pushing 
it,  and  Murdock  carrying  both  bundles.  After  half  an 
hour  of  labor,  the  corpse  was  dropped  in  Berkeley's 
bed,  lay  there  with  elbows  and  knees  bent  and  head 
fantastically  awry.  Its  bearers  sank  exhausted  on  the 
satin  upholstered  chairs. 

"  About  nurses,"  said  Presbury.  "  We  can't  trust 
anybody.  Brierly  can  pose  as  a  nurse.  Will  you  stay 
on  guard  with  us,  Blagden?  " 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  secretary. 

Murdock,  standing  gloomily  apart,  suddenly  in 
quired,  "  When  will  you  perform  the  operation  ?  " 

"  This  afternoon.  Then  the  embalmers  can  come 
in." 

"  The  embalmers !  "  exclaimed  he,  startled  and  shud 
dering. 

"  To  be  sure,  they'll  know  there's  something 
395 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

wrong,"  replied  Presbury.  "  But  my  reputation — and 
extra  pay — will  make  them  discreet.  Besides,  they're 
used  to  queer  happenings.  We'll  get  undertakers  that 
deal  only  with  the  fashionable  class  of  business.  We 
must  expect  a  good  deal  of  gossip.  It'll  be  whispered 
round  that  Berkeley  died  elsewhere;  but  what  of  that?  I 
Such  things  have  been  known  to  occur  among  respect 
able  people — who,  naturally,  protect  themselves  from 
scandal  and  disgrace." 

"  You  three  had  better  get  some  sleep,"  said  Mur 
doch,  moving  wearily  toward  the  outer  door.  He 
looked  years  older  than  his  age.  "  When  I  come  back, 
I'll  ring  four  times  slowly  and  you  can  unlock  and  let 
me  in." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him  Brierly  said :  "  Now 
what  the  devil  is  lie  up  to  ?  " 

"  He  has  probably  returned  to  the  house,"  sug 
gested  Blagden,  "  for  a  final  look  round  to  make  sure 
everything  is  all  right." 

Presbury  yawned  twice,  vastly  and  noisily.  "  You 
forget  the  other  lady  in  this  case,"  observed  he,  begin 
ning  to  undress.  "  I  don't  envy  him  his  job.  .  .  . 
Murdock  acts  like  a  man  who  had  a  personal  interest 
in  stopping  this  scandal." 

"  Rather,"  said  Blagden.  "  He  and  Berkeley  were 
very  fond  of  each  other." 

Presbury  smiled.  "  I  knew  that.  What  I  meant 
was  that,  no  matter  how  strong  a  friendship  is,  it'd 
have  to  be  supplemented  with  some  selfish  interest,  to 
stir  up  a  man's  mind  to  think  as  quickly,  as  clearly,  as 
resolutely  as  Murdock's  has  to-night.  .  .  .  Brierly, 
you  and  Blagden  can  have  the  range  of  the  rest  of 
this  luxury  and  splendor.  I'll  sleep  here."  He  gazed 
round  the  grandiose  room.  "Poor  Berkeley!  What 

396 


MY  REPUTATION  MUST  BE  SAVED 

a  pity,  to  have  to  leave  it  all,  in  the  very  prime  of 
life."  And  Presbury  threw  back  his  head  and  yawned 
again. 

"  Well,"  said  Brierly,  echoing  his  chief's  yawn, 
"  I  suppose  everybody  has  to  pay  for  what  he  gets  in 
this  world,  some  in  one  way,  some  in  another." 

"Stuff!"  ejaculated  Presbury.  "If  he'd  been  a 
pious,  virtuous  citizen,  felled  by  a  brick  as  he  passed 
along  the  street,  where'd  your  moral  have  been?  His 
luck  petered  out — that's  all.  Gad,  I  never  saw  a 
better  body  —  perfect,  absolutely  perfect  —  good  for 
twenty  years  of  young  man's  fun.  Poor  chap !  "  And 
he  yawned  once  more. 


XXIX 

'JESSIE    AND    FLORENCE 

WITH  dawn  but  an  hour  away,  there  were  still  open 
few  resorts  of  the  kind  frequented  by  the  fashionable 
Tenderloin  set  in  which  Berkeley  had  been  a  figure. 
"  Jack's  "  was  the  second  stop  Murdock  made ;  and  at 
Jack's  he  found  what  he  was  seeking.  The  instant  he 
entered  the  door  he  saw  Viola,  as  pretty,  as  smartly 
dressed  as  two  years  before,  and,  in  that  kindly  light 
at  least,  as  freshly  young;  her  cheeks  were  flushed 
from  the  champagne  a  stout,  surly,  provincial-looking 
man  in  awkward  evening  dress  was  providing  for  her 
party  of  two  women  and  five  men.  At  sight  of  Mur 
dock,  she  half  rose  and  fluttered  a  long  slim  arm — a 
not  to  be  neglected  chance  to  display  to  the  entire 
crowded  room  the  dozen  or  more  fine  rings  with  which 
her  fingers  were  disfigured. 

"  Hello,  stranger !  "  she  cried,  delighted,  and  quite 
forgetting  how  curtly  he  had  rid  himself  of  her  by 
proxy. 

Murdock  shook  hands,  with  a  slight  apologetic  bow 
to  the  surly  man  at  her  right — one  of  those  bows  that 
recognize  only  to  ignore. 

"So  you've  come  back?"  said  she,  giving  him  a 
long,  alluring  look  through  half-closed  eyes. 

"Just  for  a  glance.     Where's  Jessie?" 

"You  knew  she  and  Berk  quarreled?" 


JESSIE   AND   FLORENCE 

"  He  told  me." 

"  Do  you  come  from  him?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  she  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  She's  sulking 
at  home.  She's  stopping  with  me  now.  She  closed 
up  her  place." 

"  I  want  to  see  her." 

"  Come  round  to-morrow  afternoon.  Here's  one  of 
my  cards."  She  took  from  a  white  leather  case  in  her 
resplendent  gold  bag  a  large  square  of  bristol  board 
perhaps  a  little  too  elegantly  engraved. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Murdock.  And  he  nodded,  bowed 
again  to  the  surly  man,  passed  on. 

Viola  did  not  wait  until  he  was  out  of  earshot  be 
fore  beginning  to  tell  her  sour  Southerner  follower 
who  he  was,  how  generous  he  was,  why  she  had  got  rid 
of  him — everything  that  would  stimulate  jealousy  and 
interest  and  belief  in  her  importance.  By  the  shortest 
route  among  those  crowded,  mussy  tables,  he  escaped 
from  the  close  hot  room,  with  its  sickening,  stale,  stu 
pefying  smells  of  food,  of  drink,  of  tobacco,  of  per 
fumes  fine  and  coarse.  Within  ten  minutes  he  was  de 
scending  at  Viola's  address,  a  house  in  West  Sixty- 
seventh  Street.  He  looked  up  at  the  windows — all 
dark.  "  But  Viola's  maid  must  be  expecting  her,"  he 
muttered.  He  ascended  the  steps;  instead  of  ringing, 
he  knocked.  Through  the  curtain  over  the  glass  in 
the  door  he  saw  a  colored  maid  come  out  from  under 
the  stairway.  She  opened  to  him,  started  back  in  as 
tonishment  before  his  somber,  ominous  countenance. 

"  Has  something  happened  to  Miss  Viola  ?  "  she  ex 
claimed,  her  mind  searching  for  the  likeliest  among  the 
various  reasons  for  disaster  in  that  turbulent  life. 

"  No,"  Murdock  reassured  her.  "  I  left  her  well 
399 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

and  happy  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  wish  to  see  Miss 
Jessie." 

The  maid  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  It  was  a 
strange  time  of  night  for  calling,  even  in  the  Ten 
derloin  ;  but  this  handsome,  fashionably  dressed  man, 
with  many  evidences  of  wealth  to  her  expert  eyes,  was 
not  to  be  abruptly  denied. 

"  I  must  see  her.     I'm  from  Mr.  Berkeley." 

"  Oh — from  him."  The  maid  brightened  under- 
standingly,  but  still  held  the  door  close. 

"  She's  expecting  me,"  continued  Murdock,  and  he 
pushed  a  bill  into  her  hand. 

"  You  wake  her,  yo'self ,"  said  the  maid,  opening 
wide  and  standing  aside.  "  She's  feeling  poorly  these 
days,  and  that  touchy!  Jes'  go  upstairs — two  flights 
— the  door  at  the  end  of  the  hall  in  front.  Don't  you&e. 
tell  her  I  let  you  in.  Don't  say  how  you  got  in." 

66  Has  she  been  out  this  evening?  " 

"  Lord,  no.  She  ain't  dressed  for  days.  I  ain't 
even  seen  her  to-day.  I  don't  go  near  her  unless  she 
calls  down." 

Murdock  went  up  two  flights,  knocked  at  the  indi 
cated  door.  No  answer.  He  knocked  again.  From 
within,  a  sleepy  cross  voice,  "  Go  'way,  Vi.  I  won't 
talk  to  you  to-night." 

"  It's  I,"  said  Murdock.     "  From  Berk." 

A  long  silence.  He  knocked  again.  "  Let  me  in, 
please.  You  don't  want  me  to  call  out  my  business, 
do  you  ?  " 

Another  pause ;  the  sound  of  the  key  turning  in  the 
lock ;  then,  after  a  full  minute,  "  Come  in ! " 

He  entered.  Unlike  Viola,  Jessie  had  the  instinct 
for  order  strongly  developed.  The  large,  showily  fur 
nished  bedroom  was  in  perfect  order — every  article^ 

400 


JESSIE   AND   FLORENCE 

every  garment  in  its  place.  Beside  the  canopied  brass 
double  bed  were  two  small  bath  slippers  of  pink  silk. 
In  the  bed,  resting  upon  her  elbow  and  gazing  at  him 
was  Jessie,  in  a  pink  silk  nightgown,  her  hair  carefully 
done  and  tied  with  a  pink  ribbon  like  an  old  maid  who 
still  dreams  of  the  nuptial  couch.  At  first  glance  she 
looked  like  a  sick  young  woman ;  but  as  Murdock  grew 
used  to  the  dim  light  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were  haggard 
and  deep  sunk,  and  that  the  hard,  bitter  lines  round 
her  mouth  were  as  vivid  as  they  would  be  when  they 
came  to  stay.  He  closed  the  door,  locked  it,  seated 
himself  near  the  bed  in  a  slender  gilt  chair;  over  the 
back  of  it  hung  a  pair  of  black  silk  stockings,  turned 
inside  out. 

"  You  know  why  I've  come,"  he  began. 

She  eyed  him  defiantly.  "  Does  he  want  me  back?  " 
she  asked  in  a  hard  strained  voice. 

"  He  is  dead." 

She  did  not  flinch;  her  wild,  weary  eyes  looked 
straight  into  his. 

"  He  is  dead,"  repeated  Murdock. 

"  You  said  that  before."  And  she  forced  a  sneer 
ing  laugh. 

Murdock  could  not  but  admire  the  iron  nerves  held 
thus  taut  by  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  "  I 
hope  from  what  I  know  of  you,"  continued  he,  "  that 
you  will  help  us  hide  the  scandal.  We  have  taken  away 
his  body.  He  will  die  at  his  hotel — of  heart  disease." 

Her  face  relaxed  as  he  spoke.  When  he  ended,  she 
sank  back  into  the  pillow,  and  her  breath  exhaled  in  a 
huge  gust. 

"  I  came  to  let  you  know,  so  that  you'd  say  and 
do  nothing  foolish." 

She  began  to  mutter  inarticulately.  Her  bosom 
401 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW, 

heaved  stormily;  in  a  sort  of  convulsion  her  arms 
doubled  up  and  her  fingers  wound  themselves  fiercely 
in  her  hair.  Then  through  her  set  teeth  the  tempest 
burst.  Sobs  and  groans,  shrieks  stifled  with  the 
palms  of  her  hands  or  with  the  ends  of  the  covers 
pressed  against  her  face — a  wild  war  of  two  personal 
ities,  one  bent  upon  relief  from  agony  of  soul,  the 
other  on  guard  that  in  the  paroxysms  nothing  incrim 
inating  might  be  revealed.  Murdock  watched  in  pity 
ing  silence  until  the  storm  began  to  abate.  "  That  is 
all,"  he  said.  "  I'll  not  disturb  you  longer." 

"Wait!  Wait!"  she  cried.  "I  want  to  speak. 
Wait ! "  And  she  hung  half  out  of  the  bed  to  seize 
him  by  the  coat.  The  nightdress  slipped  from  her 
large,  plump  shoulders  and  bosom.  "  You  think  I  did 
it  on  purpose.  You  think  I'm  all  to  the  bad." 

He  disengaged  himself  gently.  "  I  don't  judge  my 
fellow-beings,"  replied  he,  suddenly  feeling  for  her — 
he  knew  not  why — a  kinship,  a  sympathy,  even  a  com 
radeship  in  frailty.  "  The  account  was  between  you 
and  him.  It's  none  of  my  business." 

"  I  went  to  frighten  them.  That  was  all.  I  swear, 
that  was  all!  When  he  threw  me  back  from  her  and 
called  me  those  awful  names,  I —  It  went  off — I  don't 
know  how.  ...  I  can't  believe  he's  dead.  ...  I  loved 
him — yes,  I  did!  He  was  a  beast — you  never  will 
know.  No  man  ever  knows  what  another  man  is,  with 
a  woman — with  a  woman  he's  not  ashamed  of  being 
himself  before.  But — I  loved  him.  I  don't  know  just 
how,  but  I  did — I  did!  I'm  glad  he's  dead — glad! 
Yes,  I  am.  .  .  .  He  was  done  with  me.  He'd  used  me 
up,  and  I  couldn't  do  anything  to  please  him.  I  tried 
everything,  and  I  guess  I  know  about  all  the  tricks  of 
the  trade.  But  he  was  tired  of  me.  He  was  getting 

402 


JESSIE   AND   FLORENCE 

old  and  vicious — wanted  youth — children.  It's  good 
he's  dead.  Now,  no  one  else  will  have  him.  Yes,  I'm 
glad — glad! — now  that  I  ain't  afraid.  You  don't 
know  what  I  suffered  when  you  said  it  wasn't  Vi  on 
the  other  side  of  the  door.  It  was  a  thousand  years 
of  hell,  in  one  minute.  .  .  .  No,  don't  go.  Stay!  I 
must  talk  to  somebody  about  it.  I  can't  talk  to  any 
body  else." 

At  this  reminder  of  the  proverbial  looseness  of 
tongue  in  women  of  her  kind,  Murdock  reflected.  -He 
seated  himself  again.  "  If  our  plans  should  mis 
carry,"  he  began  slowly. 

The  change  in  her,  the  lightninglike  change,  was 
marvelous.  Her  hysteria  disappeared.  She  sat  up  in 
the  bed,  threw  aside  the  covers.  One  of  her  legs  trailed, 
bare,  toward  the  floor.  Her  hands,  tightly  inter 
locked,  pressed  deep  into  her  soft  breast.  "  Is  there  a 
chance  of  that?"  she  said,  her  voice  calm,  but  such 
fright  in  her  eyes  that  pity  almost  swerved  him  from 
the  purpose  prudence  commanded. 

"  Always,"  replied  he.  "  No  plan  can  be  perfect. 
I  was  about  to  say,  if  our  plans  miscarry,  and  you  are 
arrested " 

She  shut  her  teeth  together  with  a  snap. 

"  Arrested,"  he  repeated,  "  send  at  once  for  Hink- 
ley  and  Baum,  the  lawyers  in  the  New  York  Life 
Building.  Send  for  them — and  keep  your  mouth  shut. 
We'll  stand  by  you  as  long  as  there's  any  hope  of  sup 
pressing  the  scandal.  But  not  an  instant  longer.  Af 
ter  that,  you'll  be  prosecuted  to  the  limit.  Do  you 
understand?  " 

She  was  sitting  as  stiff  as  if  frozen. 

"  My  advice  to  you,"  he  went  on,  "  is  not  to  see 
anyone  until  your  tendency  to  hysteria  has  passed." 

403 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   'NEW 

"  I  won't,"  replied  she  between  her  locked  jaws. 
"  You  can  trust  me." 

"  I  rather  think  you  don't  care  to  sit  in  the — elec 
tric  chair." 

He  paused;  she  shook  in  a  violent  chill,  then  was 
rigid  again. 

"  Whenever,"  he  went  on,  "  you  have  a  yearning 
to  talk  it  over  with  some  one,  picture — the  electric 
chair." 

She  was  gray  green.  As  if  she  had  been  shot,  she 
fell  back  into  the  bed,  covering  her  face  with  her  arms. 
But  that  only  made  the  vision  the  clearer ;  and  so  clear 
was  it,  so  terrible,  that  while  it  persisted  its  terror 
would  spare  her  the  deeper  horrors  of  remorse  and  the 
remoter  peril  of  her  soul.  Murdock,  satisfied  now  that 
his  plans  were  in  no  danger  from  her  hysterical  desire 
to  discuss  her  crime,  went  toward  the  door.  A  large 
closet  was  partly  open ;  in  it  he  saw  an  altar  with  sev 
eral  candles  burning — and  he  knew  what  Jessie  had 
been  at,  when  he  knocked.  He  departed,  without  her 
giving  any  further  sign. 

In  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Berkeley  arrived  from 
Washington  accompanied  by  Berkeley's  valet  and  her 
maid.  Murdock,  alone,  met  her  at  the  door  of  the 
suite  and  took  her  into  the  drawing-room.  She  was 
calm,  hardly  more  than  serious,  certainly  not  in  the 
least  grief-stricken.  "How  is  he?"  she  asked. 
"  You  must  be  prepared  for  the  worst." 
"  I  am,"  replied  Florence.  She  was  particularly 
youthful  in  a  spring  traveling  dress  just  from  Paris ; 
her  skin  was  still  fresh  from  the  treatment,  and  her 
hair,  formerly  too  thin  after  the  habit  of  fair  hair 
when  youth  is  past,  was  responding  to  a  new  treatment 

404 


JESSIE   AND   FLORENCE 

she  had  discovered.  She  was  of  those  women  who,  from 
the  nature  of  their  skin  and  coloring,  have  at  all  times 
a  cool,  clean,  fresh  appearance.  Her  lips  were  thin 
and  somewhat  satiric ;  they  and  her  light-gray  eyes 
bespoke — to  the  expert  in  temperaments — an  indi 
viduality  of  strong  passions  and  stronger  will,  sen 
sual  rather  than  sentimental — not  unlike  her  husband, 
though  everyone  thought  her  his  exact  opposite. 
"  What  is  *  the  worst '  ?  "  inquired  she,  seating  herself 
and  in  tranquil,  leisurely  fashion,  divesting  herself  of 
gloves.  As  he  did  not  reply,  she  presently  glanced  at 
him,  read  the  truth  in  his  face.  She  hastily  lowered 
her  eyes. 

"  He  is  dead." 

She  paused  in  taking  off  the  second  glove. 
"  Dead,"  she  repeated.  She  gazed  thoughtfully  into 
space.  After  a  minute's  silence,  "  Disgracefully  ?  " 

"  We  got  him  away."  Murdock's  eyes  turned  to 
ward  the  closed  bedroom  door.  "  He's  in  there.  We 
plan  to  announce  his  death  some  time  during  the  after 
noon.  He  will  die  after  an  operation." 

She  resumed  unbuttoning  the  second  glove;  when 
it  was  off,  she  laid  the  two  gloves  neatly  together,  put 
them  in  her  lap  and  slowly  turned  the  sets  of  her  su 
perb  rings  outward.  "  As  you  please.  Perhaps  it  is 
best  that  there  be  no  scandal.  Such  things  set  a 
bad  example  to  the  middle  class,  who  are  mad  about 
imitating  us,  especially  our  vices."  She  sat  reflecting, 
a  slight  satiric  smile  about  her  lips.  A  handsome  wo 
man,  but  of  that  superior  "  queenly  "  style  which  plain 
men  think  too  grand  for  the  homely  uses  of  daily  life. 

"You  will  see  him?" 

She  seemed  to  debate,  balancing  reasons  for  and 
against. 

405 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  He  looks  quite  natural — now." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  see  him ;  so,  why  should  I?  I  need 
make  no  pretenses  with  you.  You  know  about  all  there 
is  to  be  known.  He  cared  for  no  one  but  himself,  and 
no  one  cared  for  him.  I  used  often  to  think  that,  if 
I  loved  him,  I  should  kill  him." 

Murdock,  his  nerves  all  but  exhausted,  startled. 
She  saw,  and  said,  "  It  was  a  woman,  was  it  ? " 
Taking  Murdock's  silence  as  assent,  she  went  on. 
"  There's  a  certain  justice  in  that.  If  we  believed 
in  special  providences,  we'd  say  this  was  an  instance 
of  it." 

His  face  darkened.  He  knew  Tom  Berkeley 
through  and  through;  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that  death 
was  a  quitter  of  all  scores,  that  she  owed  it  to  herself, 
if  not  to  her  husband's  memory,  to  feel,  or  at  least 
to  show  some  softness.  When  he  looked  at  her  again, 
her  gaze  was  resting  upon  him. 

"  I  see,"  said  she,  "  you  think  me  hard.  I  am  only 
honest.  Of  course,  I  shall  pretend  before  the  world; 
I  shall  do  what  is  expected.  But  I  tell  you  frankly  I 
feel  only  relief.  You  cannot  understand.  You'd  have 
had  to  live  with  him  as  a  woman  lives  with  a  man.  I 
thank  God  I  had  the  insight  and  the  courage  to  bear 
no  children  to  him." 

"  All  that  is  past,"  said  Murdock  gently. 

"  I  wish  it  were !  But  it  is  not.  It  lives  in  me. 
We  are  what  association  makes  us,  and  I  associated 
with  him."  She  struck  her  hands  together  with  sudden 
violence,  and  her  eyes  flashed.  "  He  blighted  my  youth. 
He  withered  my  heart.  To  stand  up  against  him,  I 
had  to  become  more  or  less  like  him.  .  .  .  Not  in  one 
respect,  thank  God.  He  made  me  loathe  the  very 
thought  of  sex." 

406 


JESSIE   AND   FLORENCE 

She  calmed  as  quickly  as  she  had  burst  into  storm. 
<fi  I  do  not  hate  him,"  said  she.  "  He  was  what  nature 
made  him.  Please  don't  think  I'm  ungrateful  for  what 
you're  doing  to  spare  me  and  to  prevent  his  tomb 
stone  from  being  a  monument  of  shame." 

"  The  least  I  could  do  was  to  try  to  carry  out  his 
last  wish.  Besides — "  He  hesitated,  yielded  to  his 
aversion  to  pose —  "  scandal  would  have  been  un 
pleasant  for  me,  just  now.  There's  always  a  personal 
reason  for  one's  acts." 

"  But  with  most  people  the  personal  reason  is  the 
only  one — and  so  offensively  personal !  " 

Murdock  recognized  another  sentence  in  the  wife's 
parting  words  over  the  husband.  "  You  will  stop  in  this 
[hotel,  as  I've  arranged?  " 

"  Yes.  As  soon  as  I'm  settled,  I'll  send  my  maid  out 
to  get  my  crape.  I'll  swathe  myself  so  that  the  propri 
eties  will  be  more  than  satisfied."  She  drew  a  long,  slow 
breath.  "  My  term  is  served.  The  prison  doors  are 
open.  I  am  free !  " 

She  went  to  the  window  and  gazed  out  over  the 
sparkling  city  with  ravished  eyes,  as  if  she  had  con 
quered  it  and  it  lay  at  her  feet,  humbly  awaiting  her 
good  pleasure.  The  air  of  the  room  became  stifling 
to  Murdock,  and  he  was  ashamed  of  the  sympathy  with 
her  that  welled  up  in  him.  "  Free !  "  he  repeated  to 
himself  exaltingly.  "  I,  too,  shall  soon  be  free."  Mov 
ing  toward  the  door,  he  said,  "  I'll  have  your  maid 
sent  to  you  in  about  half  an  hour.  I'll  tell  her  he  has 
just  died." 

"  Thank  you."  As  his  hand  was  on  the  knob,  she 
asked,  "  Did  he  have  time  to  make  a  will?  " 

"  No." 

"  That  is  fortunate  for  me.'*  And  her  head  reared 
407 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

proudly.  Under  the  laws  of  their  State  all  he  had  was 
hers. 

Murdock  went  to  the  death  chamber  by  way  of  the 
private  hall.  Dr.  Presbury  had  just  gone.  Blagden 
and  Brierly  were  lunching  in  great  comfort  and  cheer 
in  an  adjoining  room,  as  Murdock  saw  through  its 
open  door.  He  stood  by  the  bed,  gazed  down  at  the 
corpse,  straight  now,  and  with  the  mouth  tied  shut. 
Death  had  departed  from  those  features,  taking  with  it 
the  sinister  expression;  the  face  wore  a  look  of  stony 
calm.  It  was  the  face  the  world  had  always  seen — • 
the  generous,  good-natured,  light-hearted  Berk  who 
so  well  concealed  his  icy  selfishness  from  the  casual  by 
not  concealing  it  at  all.  "  Dead !  "  muttered  Murdock, 
and  his  gaze  rested  upon  that  long,  humorous,  piglike 
nose — all  its  humor  and  its  suggestion  of  jovial 
sensuality  gone  now.  How  it  had  loved  the  odors  of 
the  "  good  things  of  life  " — of  food,  of  cigars,  of  wine 
— of  woman.  But  it  would  twitch  at  their  tickling  no 
more.  "  Dead !  "  muttered  his  friend,  and  for  the  first 
time  the  meaning  of  the  crowding  events  of  the  past 
twelve  hours,  the  facts  of  violence,  of  murder,  of  him 
self  and  the  others  as  accomplices,  thrust  at  him  vivid 
ly.  But  he  was  not  moved;  the  element  of  tragedy 
was  lacking. 

His  face  grew  somber,  but  not  with  grief,  or  re 
gret,  even;  the  gloomy  thought  was  of  himself — that 
after  a  few  more  of  these  swift  revolving  years  he,  too, 
would  be  stretched  out  like  this,  the  world  going  on 
just  the  same,  and  he  dead  and  disintegrating  and  for 
gotten.  His  life  had  been  too  occupied  with  the  im 
mediate  and  the  pressing,  to  admit  the  thought  of 
death;  to-morrow  he  would  be  again  too  busy.  But 
in  that  hour  he  thought  of  it ;  and  it  seemed  to  him  the 

408 


JESSIE  AND   FLORENCE 

only  fact  in  life  not  too  evanescent  and  futile  to  be 
worthy  a  thought.  "  Dead !  "  he  said.  "  I  must  make 
haste  to  live!" 

Blagden  joined  him.  "  Shall  we  announce  it,  sir?  " 
he  asked.  "  And  shall  we  send  for  the  undertaker  ?  " 

Murdock  nodded  assent. 

"  I  assume  you  wish  me  to  make  arrangements  for 
her — as  to  burial,  and  all  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Murdock.  "  Tell  her  the  programme. 
She'll  carry  it  out." 


XXX 

THE    STORM    BURSTS 

BLAGDEN,  just  arrived  at  the  Eyrie  from  Chicago 
and  Murdock,  was  at  one  of  the  long  windows  of  Sophy's 
sitting  room,  composing  himself  for  what  he  hoped  was 
the  final  crisis  in  his  enterprise.  Berkeley  had  been  un 
derground  a  fortnight ;  there  had  been  published  no  hint 
of  the  truth  about  either  his  life  or  his  death.  But  the 
whispered  scandal  had  traveled,  swift  and  stealthy  as 
serpent  under  forest  carpet  of  fallen  leaves,  until  the 
whole  country  was  half  believing  there  was  "  something 
mighty  queer  in  that  fellow  Berkeley's  death,"  and  that 
probably  Charles  Murdock  knew  more  about  it  than  he 
cared — or  dared — to  have  the  public  learn.  Blagden, 
hoping  against  common  sense  that  Murdock  would  not 
realize,  had  been  anxiously  awaiting  the  announcement 
of  the  divorce;  for  if  Murdock  should  suspect  the  state 
of  the  public  mind  he  would  surely  postpone  the  an 
nouncement,  might  even  abandon  the  divorce  altogether. 
That  morning,  as  soon  as  he  entered  Murdock's  suite  at 
the  Auditorium,  Murdock  had  dashed  out  hope  by  start 
ing  him  for  Saint  X  with  an  abrupt :  "  See  Mrs.  Mur 
dock  and  tell  her  the  decree  will  not  be  published  at 
present.  Then  see  Wickham  and  confirm  the  telegram  I 
have  just  sent,  instructing  him  to  put  it  off." 

Sophy  kept  him  waiting  less  than  half  an  hour — just 
time  to  put  on  the  new-model  Agnes  corset,  with  the 

410 


THE   STORM  BURSTS 


Fleury  elastic,  and  to  have  her  hair  hastily  done  in  the 
graceful  fashion  Miss  Fleury  had  taught  Katy.  "  I 
didn't  stop  to  dress,"  she  began,  as  she  swept  in  robed 
in  flowing  lace  and  chiffon,  artfully  draped  to  decrease 
and  harmonize  her  proportions.  "  I've  been  ill  all  day." 
Evidently  she  was  laboring  under  great  excitement.  She 
thrust  a  newspaper  at  him — a  copy  of  the  New  York 
News-Record.  "  Some  one — I  haven't  dared  ask  who — 
left  this  in  my  dressing  room.  Have  you  seen  it?  " 
Blagden  read: 

One  of  the  many  explanations  of  the  occurrences  of  a 
certain  tragic  night  is  that  the  deceased  Western  millionaire 
and  an  associate,  even  more  conspicuous  in  the  same  trust, 
were  rival  admirers  of  the  young  lady  in  question.  It  is  said 
that  they  met  at  the  house  hired  for  her  by  one  of  them. 
Neither  expected  to  see  the  other ;  a  quarrel  followed,  and 
the  one  shot  the  other,  so  the  story  goes.  It  is  known  that 
he  who  is  said  to  have  done  the  shooting  has  been  in  strained 
relations  with  his  wife  for  some  time,  with  persistent  rumors 
of  divorce  pending.  Like  so  many  of  our  newly  sprung  very 
rich  he  has  wearied  of  the  wife  of  his  youth,  though  she  is 
still  young  and  attractive  and  by  no  means  so  lacking  in  edu 
cation  and  social  graces  as  have  been  many  of  the  women 
whose  husbands  have  paid  them  off  and  dismissed  them. 

Blagden  glanced  at  the  date — the  previous  morning ; 
this,  then,  was  what  had  moved  Murdock  to  post  him 
off  to  Saint  X.  "  I'm  sorry !  "  he  exclaimed,  lifting  his 
ostentatiously  shocked  gaze  to  Sophy's  angry  counte 
nance.  "  You  shouldn't  have  seen  this  miserable 
story." 

"  Who  was  the  woman,  Mr.  Blagden  ?  Tell  me !  Was 
it— she?  " 

411 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I  may  not  talk  about  it,  my  dear  friend,"  he  re 
plied,  apparently  deeply  embarrassed,  but  firm  and  dig 
nified.  "  What  good  can  come  of  discussing  it?  " 

Sophy  tossed  her  head.  "  Yes,  yes — it  was  she ! 
Your  manner  is  confession."  She  was  pacing  up  and 
down  in  fury ;  she  would  have  sat,  but  even  the  Fleury 
improvement  did  not  make  sitting  easy.  "  Thank  God, 
I'm  free — free!  All  has  been  settled.  I  can  do  as  I 
please.  I'll  see  that  she  gets  her  deserts !  I'll  have  her 
shouted  from  the  housetops." 

"  You  certainly  can  ruin  them  both,"  admitted  Blag- 
den.  "  And,  after  all  you've  suffered,  it  would  be  just. 
.  .  .  But,  what  I  am  saying?  You've  made  me  forget 
why  I'm  here — my  duty  to  him.  He  sent  me  to  ask  you 
for — for  mercy."  He  faltered ;  his  expression  was  a  trib 
ute  to  his  manhood  which  he  was  outraging,  as  he  went 
on :  "  He  wants  you  to  consent  to  a  postponement.  .  .  . 
He  wants  you  to  give  the  scandal  time  to  die."  It  took 
all  the  energy  of  his  hungry  passion  and  hungrier  am 
bition  to  nerve  him  to  utter  that  last  sentence,  the  cap 
of  the  structure  of  passive  chicane  he  had  thought  out 
with  the  assistance  of  conscience  and  a  high  sense  of 
honor. 

Sophy  laughed  viciously.  "  Not  a  day.  No,  not  an 
hour!"  " 

She  rushed  to  the  telephone  table,  plumped  herself 
down  resolutely,  called  the  Country  Club.  Blagden 
watched  in  silence.  Her  bosom  was  heaving  and  her  head 
twitching.  In  her  impatience  she  several  times  jerked 
at  the  receiver  hook.  "Is  Mrs.  Monfort  there?  Or 
Mrs.  Hastings?  Or  Mrs.  Dorsey?  Please  tell  one  of 
them  Mrs.  Murdock  wishes  to  speak  to  her,  right  away." 

Blagden  felt  it  was  safe  to  let  conscience  interrupt 

with  a  mild,  "  I  beg  you,  Mrs.  Murdock " 

412 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


"  They  can't  make  a  cat's-paw  of  me !  ...  Is  that 
you,  Mrs.  Monfort?  .  .  .  Yes?  .  .  .  Yes,  it's  Sophy  Mur- 
dock.  I  just  called  you  up,  Jane,  to  let  you  know  I've 
got  my  divorce.  .  .  .  Why  should  you  be  surprised?  .  .  . 
Well,  I  couldn't  suffer  in  silence  any  longer.  ...  I  thank 
my  God  I've  escaped  before  this  frightful  scandal  burst. 
.  .  .  No,  not  at  all.  I  wouldn't  injure  my  children  by 
naming  anyone.  .  .  .  Yes,  the  same  woman,  Juliet  Rae- 
burn.  „  .  .  Why,  certainly,  you  do.  Dangerfield,  you 
know.  .  .  .  Yes,  that  dressmaker — that's  her.  .  .  .  No, 
no,  I've  told  you  more  than  I  should.  Be  careful  what 
you  say,  Jane.  Of  course,  I  don't  care  who  knows  about 
the  divorce.  That's  a  public  matter.  .  .  .  No,  not  this 
morning.  I'm  almost  prostrated.  But  come  to  lunch 
to-morrow.  .  .  .  Good-by.  .  .  .  Yes — yes —  You  are 
so  good  and  true.  It's  in  times  like  these  that  one 
finds  their  real  friends.  ...  I  know  youy  Jane.  .  .  < 
Good-by!" 

Sophy  hung  up  the  receiver.  "  There !  "  cried  she. 
"  That's  my  answer.  You  can  take  it  to  him  —  to 
tJiem\" 

The  face  of  the  young  man  was  gray,  and  he  had  to 
steady  his  lips  several  times  before  he  was  able  to  articu 
late,  "  Well— it's  out!" 

"  Out?  "  cried  Sophy  jubilantly.  "  Rather!  Why, 
Jane  Monfort  will  talk  it  and  write  it  and  telegraph  it." 
Her  laugh  and  her  glittering  eyes  suggested  insanity. 
"  They're  welcome  to  marry  now.  He's  welcome  to  his 
loose,  frivolous  wife.  How  happy  they  will  be !  " 

Blagden  let  her  rave  on  and  on.  It  was  full  a  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  before  she  subsided,  heaving,  her  face 
shining  with  perspiration,  her  breath  coming  in  gasps, 
so  ill  suited  to  the  expression  of  violent  emotions  were 
summer  weather  and  the  Agnes  corset.  A  purplish 

413 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

band  appeared  upon  her  forehead  and  her  cheeks  be 
came  leaden.  But  Blagden,  as  absorbed  as  a  chronic 
chess  player  in  his  next  move,  was  not  observing  her. 
When  the  silence  had  attracted  her  attention  to  him 
he  rose  dejectedly.  "  Good-by,"  said  he,  mournfully 
extending  his  hand.  "  I  shall  probably  not  see  you 
again." 

She  gazed  at  him  in  stupefied  alarm.  He  had  dressed 
himself  with  the  greatest  care  for  that  interview.  Never 
before  had  she  seen  him  so  fascinatingly  the  man  of  the 
fashionable  world.  "What  do  you  mean?"  she  en 
treated,  her  thoughts  now  entirely  concentrated  upon 
him. 

"  I'm  returning  to  Chicago,"  replied  he,  his  eyes 
on  hers  in  lingering  sadness.  "  I  shall  resign  at  once. 
Then — back  to  New  York — abroad  perhaps — to  try  to 
forget." 

"You're  not  going  to  desert  me — just  when  I  really 
need  you !  "  It  burst  upon  her  how  alone  she  was. 
Norma  would  certainly  disapprove  what  she  had  done — 
the  cyclone  of  foul  scandal  she  had  released — and  so,  too, 
would  her  son  probably.  Her  energy,  her  courage  were 
ebbing  like  a  tide  racing  out  through  a  strait.  "  You 
wouldn't  do  that !  "  she  implored.  "  You  wouldn't  be  so 
cruel — to  me !  "  And  tears  gathered  in  her  limpid  azure 
eyes. 

He  looked  down  at  her  eagerly.  "  Do  you  really 
mean  it  ?  "  he  asked.  "  If  I  could  believe  you  valued  my 
friendship ! " 

"  Who  else  have  I  got?  I'm  all  alone.  And  now  that 
I  have  a  fortune  I'll  be  beset  on  every  side.  I  had  hoped 
that  when  you  resigned  we  could — could — make  some 
arrangement." 

Blagden  stared  at  her  dumfounded.     Here,  what  he 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


expected  to  have  to  maneuver  for  was  frankly  offered 
him,  was  pressed  upon  him.  She  had  always  been  a 
great  figure  in  his  imagination — she,  dwelling  perpetu 
ally  in  the  atmosphere  of  gold  that  appealed  to  his  per 
fectly  normal  romantic  instincts.  Now,  herself  very 
rich,  a  queen  in  her  own  right,  even  were  she  plain  instead 
of  handsome,  it  would  have  been  as  impossible  for  him 
to  see  defect  in  her  as  for  the  South  Sea  islander  to  find 
ugliness  in  the  hideous  idol  he  adores.  Temper  became 
goddesslike  wrath ;  fat  was  dignity ;  her  most  common 
place  remark  shimmered  with  gold,  and  her  voice  tinkled 
with  it.  In  his  imagination  she  was  the  summit  of  heart's 
desire.  Nor  was  it  illusion  or  delusion.  The  world  is 
to  each  of  us  what  his  own  eyes  and  his  own  mind  reveal 
to  him ;  Blagden's  world  was  that  of  most  human  beings, 
bred  in  the  sordid  sycophantic  traditions  of  the  race, 
was  a  world  of  things,  not  of  persons ;  beauty  and  dig 
nity  and  power  and  rank  were  represented  to  him  under 
the  material  form  of  wealth.  Had  his  shrewdness  not 
warned  him  that  women,  like  men,  become  unmanageable 
once  they  got  the  sense  of  power,  or  even  the  scent  of  it 
in  their  nostrils,  he  would  have  lost  all  by  showing  how: 
much  in  awe  of  her  he  was,  how  this  gracious  condescen 
sion  of  hers  had  overwhelmed  him.  He  hastily  concealed 
his  emotion;  and  very  manly  and  frank  and  ardent  he 
looked  as  he  said :  "  Any  arrangement  that  enables  me  to 
be  near  you,  to  feel  that  I  am  helping  you — will  be — 
will  make  me  content — "  His  eyes  lit  with  passion — 
"  more  than  content." 

Her  gaze  dropped  before  his  ardor,  and  a  blush  of 
confusion  and  pleasure  came  to  her  cheeks.  "  I  was 
afraid  of  him,  and  I  stood  out  for  absolute  control  of — 
of  my  property.  I  want  some  one  to  look  after  my 
affairs,"  said  she.  "  I  must  have  some  one."  The  blush 

415 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

deepened.  "  I  thought  perhaps — for  the  present — we 
might  have  some  such  arrangement  as  —  as  you  now 
have." 

"  For  the  present,"  replied  he.  His  tone  was  bold 
and  full  of  meaning.  "  But  only  for  the  present." 

"  That  is  what  I  meant,"  she  murmured.  And  very 
youthful  she  felt  and  looked. 

A  knock  at  the  door ;  Katy  entered.  "  Mrs.  Berke 
ley  to  see  you,  ma'am.  She  says  she  must." 

Sophy  frowned.  "  Show  her  up,"  was  her  not  very 
gracious  assent.  To  Blagden :  "  Poor  Florence !  I  can't 
deny  her.  No,  you  must  stay.  You  must.  I  guess  we 
both  know  what  she's  come  for." 

Fashionable  mourning  was  most  becoming  to  Mrs. 
Berkeley;  her  soft,  somber  draperies  seemed  to  diffuse 
about  her  stately  fair  comeliness  the  pensive,  serene 
allurement  of  twilight.  "  Sophy,"  she  began,  not  see 
ing  Blagden  who  had  withdrawn  to  the  deep  win 
dow  casement,  "  what  is  this  dreadful  story  I've  just 
heard?  " 

"  About  my  divorce  ?  It's  quite  true.  But  you 
needn't  condole.  I'm  as  glad  of  my  release  as — as  you 
were." 

"  No — no !  "  exclaimed  Florence.  "  I  don't  mean  the 
divorce."  There  she  caught  sight  of  Blagden.  She 
bowed  to  him,  hesitated. 

"  You  can  speak  quite  freely  before  Mr.  Blagden," 
said  Sophy. 

Florence  gave  him  a  queer,  searching  look  that  made 
his  sensitive  skin  flush,  then  went  on :  "  Jane  Monfort 
just  telephoned  me  that  you  got  your  divorce  because — 
Oh,  I  understood.  She  was  hinting  at  that  miserable  lie 
about  a  quarrel  between  Berkeley  and  Murdock — a  quar 
rel  over  a  woman." 

416 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


"  It  is  not  a  lie,  Florence,"  said  Sophy.  Her  tone 
was  restrained,  but  the  line  of  her  mouth  straightened. 

"  Sophy !  "  cried  Mrs.  Berkeley.  "  You  surely  didn't 
believe !  Mr.  Blagden,  tell  her  the  truth  about  it." 

"  I  know  nothing,"  replied  Blagden  calmly.  "  Mr. 
Murdock  did  not  take  me  into  his  confidence." 

Mrs.  Berkeley  looked  astonished,  puzzled.  But  Blag- 
den's  expression  was  convincing.  "  Well,  /  know,"  she 
went  on,  turning  to  Sophy.  "  My  husband  was  shot  by 
a  woman — and  your  husband " 

"He  is  not  my  husband,"  interjected  Sophy.  "  I 
am  free,  thank  God !  " 

"  Mr.  Murdock,  then — he  moved  heaven  and  earth 
to  hide  the  scandal." 

"  The  woman  was  Juliet  Raeburn." 

"  That's  what  Jane  said.  Sophy,  it  isn't  true.  It 
was  a — cocotte." 

"  It  was,"  flashed  Sophy.     "  Indeed,  it  was !  " 

"  Juliet  Raeburn  comes  of  a  splendid  family.  She's 
a  well-bred  woman,  of  the  highest  reputation." 

Sophy  trembled  with  rage.  "  Hear  her,  Mr.  Blag 
den  ! "  she  cried  mockingly.  "  Just  hear  her !  Who 
has  been  deceiving  you,  Florence  ?  I  tell  you,  your  hus 
band  was  shot  by  Murdock  in  a  quarrel  about  that 
Raeburn  woman,  his  mistress.  And  I  want  the  whole 
world  to  know  it." 

"  Sophy,  some  one  has  been  horribly  deceiving  you." 
She  appealed  to  Blagden,  who  was  alternately  paling 
and  flushing.  "  Mr.  Blagden ! "  She  tried  to  fix  his 
wandering  gaze  but  could  not.  "  Tell  her  the  truth, 
Mr.  Blagden." 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Berkeley,"  replied  he  restlessly, 
"  you  must  excuse  me.  My  position  with  Mr.  Murdock 
makes  it  impossible  for  me  to  take  part  in  such  a  dis- 

417 


OLD   WIVES   FOR 


cussion.  All  I  know  about  the  alleged  murder  is  that 
Mr.  Murdock  told  me  Mr.  Berkeley  died  of  heart  disease. 
Of  Miss  Raeburn  I  know  nothing." 

"  Do  you  pretend  that  you  believe  Murdock  killed 
my  husband?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Berkeley  sternly. 

"  I  do  not,"  replied  Blagden.  "  I  believe  it  is  not 
true.  I  have  told  Mrs.  Murdock  so." 

"Yes,  and  what's  his  authority?"  cried  Sophy. 
"  Why,  it's  the  same  as  yours  —  Murdock,  himself."  She 
laughed  insanely.  "  Poor  Florence  !  You  thought  Mur 
dock  was  toiling  to  shield  you.  Instead,  he  was  shielding 
himself  and  that  woman.  No  wonder  he  didn't  come  out 
to  the  funeral." 

"  O  Sophy,  Sophy  !  How  can  you  !  "  pleaded  Mrs. 
Berkeley. 

"  Maybe  the  Raeburn  woman  did  do  the  shooting," 
conceded  Sophy.  "  What  does  it  matter  which  did  it? 
It  was  one  or  the  other." 

"  Ridiculous  !     Did  you  tell  Jane  that  story?  " 

"  I  did  not,"  replied  Sophy,  with  the  defiance  of  the 
teller  of  half-truths.  "  She  knew  it  already." 

"  But  you  did  not  deny  it  to  her." 

"  I  am  done  with  lies,  Florence.  For  years  I've  been 
living  a  lie,  and  eating  my  heart  out.  Now,  I'm  going 
to  live  in  the  open." 

"  Sophy,"  said  Mrs.  Berkeley  solemnly,  "  you  are 
countenancing  the  spread  of  a  frightful,  a  dangerous 
falsehood.  I  don't  know  anything  about  your  relations 
with  your  husband.  God  knows,  I  wouldn't  judge  be 
tween  any  husband  and  wife,  after  what  I  had  at  home. 
But  one  thing  I  can  say  —  Murdock  was  my  husband's 
friend  through  his  life,  and  showed  his  friendship  most 
after  he  was  dead." 

"  How  do  you  know  that?  "  asked  Sophy  scornfully. 
418 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


Mrs.  Berkeley  was  silent. 

"  Only  because  Murdock  told  you !  " 

"  No,"  replied  Florence  with  such  energy  that  Blag- 
den  startled.  "  I  know  it  by  a  thousand  and  one  small 
circumstances  that  convince  me  beyond  a  doubt.  As  for 
Juliet  Raeburn  being  in  any  way  entangled  in  this,  it  is 
preposterous." 

Sophy  shot  her  a  glance  of  sullen  dislike. 

"  I  see  you  don't  believe  me,"  Florence  went  on. 
"  You  are  bent  on  revenge.  Well,  have  it — stuff  your 
self  with  it.  But,  Sophy,  let  me  warn  you.  Be  careful 
not  to  go  too  far.  If  you  press  this  lie  it  will  be  re 
vealed  as  a  lie,  and  your  revenge  will  recoil  upon  your 
own  head.  I  know  Murdock  is  innocent  of  Berkeley's 
death.  If  you  spread  a  report  that  he  murdered  him 
the  truth  will  come  out.  And  you  will  be  covered  with 
humiliation  and  disgrace.  Instead  of  sympathy  from 
everybody  you  will  get  universal  condemnation." 

Sophy  sniffed  contemptuously.  But  she  made  no 
verbal  answer,  because  she  was  impressed;  perhaps  she 
had  gone  a  little  too  far  with  Jane  Monfort.  Presently 
she  said,  in  a  mollifying  tone :  "  Well,  Florence,  don't 
let  us  quarrel.  You  can  believe  what  you  please,  and  so 
can  I.  For  my  part,  I'm  going  to  try  to  forget  Mur 
dock  ever  lived.  If  anyone  asks  me  about  the  business 
I'm  going  to  refuse  to  discuss  it." 

"  That  is  wise.    Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Blagden  ?  " 

The  secretary  came  from  the  deep  window  to  which 
he  had  again  discreetly  withdrawn.  "  Certainly,  the 
world  always  admires  a  woman  who,  no  matter  what  her 
provocation,  keeps  silent  about  her  husband,"  said  he, 
with  the  precision  of  one  repeating  a  carefully  rehearsed 
speech.  "  Even  if  the  truth  about  Mr.  Berkeley's  death 
were  different  from  what  the  public  believes,  Mr.  Mur- 

419 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

dock  is  not  the  man  to  conceal  such  a  truth  without  tak 
ing  all  precautions  to  protect  his  version  of  it." 

"  You  hear,  Sophy,"  cried  Florence.  "  You  must 
admit,  that's  common  sense." 

"  Good  heavens !  "  ejaculated  Sophy,  rolling  her  fine, 
innocent  eyes  and  waving  her  beautiful  hands.  "  Why 
do  you  attack  me?  I  know  what  I  know,  I  believe  what 
I  believe ;  but  I've  not  said  anything.  I  intend  to  keep 
my  mouth  shut.  Only,  I  shall  tell  no  lies." 

And  with  that  Mrs.  Berkeley  had  to  be  content. 
After  she  was  gone  Blagden  said :  "  As  she  was  talking 
it  occurred  to  me  that  Presbury  and  the  two  other  doc 
tors,  who  have  pledged  their  reputations  to  the  story 
that  Berkeley  died  of  heart  disease,  might  make  trouble. 
It  would  be  disagreeable,  wouldn't  it,  if  they  were  to  sue 
some  paper  or  person  for  slander?  Besides,  Mr.  Mur- 
dock  is  very  resourceful.  It  isn't  wise  to  stir  him  up  too 
much,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  I've  done  all  I'm  going  to  do,"  replied  Sophy. 
"  That  woman  will  be  exposed,  and  I  don't  care  about 
anything  else." 

Blagden  admired  the  shrewdness  behind  this  re 
mark.  "  She'll  have  every  wife  in  the  country  enlisted 
on  her  side,"  reflected  he.  "  And,  if  I  know  anything 
about  American  women,  the  wives  will  see  to  it  that 
the  husbands  roar." 

The  waiter  who  brought  Murdock's  breakfast  next 
morning  laid  the  newspapers  before  him  and  watched 
his  face  with  the  eager  curiosity  of  the  humble  about 
the  exalted.  On  the  first  page  of  each  of  those  papers, 
with  headlines  varying  from  three  to  six  columns  in 
width,  was  the  great  Murdock  divorce  scandal;  and 
on  the  top  of  the  heap  he  had  put  the  one  newspaper 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


which  ventured  darkly  to  hint  a  connection  between 
the  divorce  and  the  "  unexplained  mystery  of  million 
aire  Berkeley's  death,"  and  to  inject — very  guardedly 
• — insinuations  about  Juliet  Raeburn — "  a  beautiful 
young  woman,  known  to  every  woman  in  the  land  who 
loves  fashionable  dress,  is  said  to  be  responsible  for 
breaking  up  the  once  happy  Murdock  home." 

Murdock's  glance  fell  upon  the  screaming  head 
lines.  The  waiter  was  rewarded ;  his  thin,  inquisitive 
nose  worked  and  his  dull  prominent  eyes  glistened,  as 
with  a  curse  Murdock  took  up  the  paper.  As  he 
opened  it  he  saw  a  picture — the  palace  occupied  by  Dan- 
gerfield's.  His  eyes  tore  through  headlines  and  story. 
Simcox  entered,  saw  the  waiter  feasting  upon  Mur 
dock's  telltale  expression,  motioned  him  from  the  room 
with  a  gesture  that  was  at  once  a  blow  and  a  kick,  then, 
himself  retired  as  noiselessly  as  he  had  come.  Mur 
dock  read  on  and  on — grains  of  truth  buried  in  masses 
of  conjecture,  speculations,  lies;  basest  attacks  upon 
himself  and  upon  Juliet  Raeburn  so  advanced  that  any 
attempt  to  refute  them  would  seem  an  admission  of 
their  partial  truth;  his  wife  lauded — a  beautiful,  noble 
woman,  of  too  lofty  a  nature  for  his  coarseness;  the 
victim  of  his  depravity,  finally  goaded  to  desperation 
by  infidelities  flaunted  in  her  very  face.  Saint  X  was 
on  the  date  line  of  the  main  story ;  but  without  that,  he 
knew  it  must  have  been  in  Saint  X,  from  Sophy  or  her 
friends,  that  the  reporters  had  got  most  of  the  state 
ments. 

Murdock  had  used  newspaper  publicity  too  often, 
had  studied  it  too  carefully,  not  to  know  what  he  was 
now  facing.  From  Atlantic  to  Pacific,  wherever  there 
was  interest  in  scandal  the  main  subject  of  conversa 
tion,  not  alone  among  the  men,  but  among  the  women 

421 


OLD   WIVES  WOR   NEW 

as  well,  was  the  great  Murdock  explosion.  And  Charles 
Murdock,  sitting  there  alone,  so  high  up  that  even  the 
noise  of  the  granite-paved  city  came  as  a  murmur,  knew 
he  was  at  the  very  moment  pilloried  before  the  stares 
and  sneers  and  scorn  of  eighty  millions.  But  he  was 
not  thinking  of  himself.  The  thought  that  drove  rea 
son  from  its  seat  was  of  the  woman  unjustly  pilloried 
beside  him — the  woman  on  whom  he  had  brought  infinite 
disgrace.  In  his  reckless  passion,  in  his  insolent  confi 
dence  in  the  power  of  his  wealth,  he  had  neglected  the 
wisdom  in  one  of  his  favorite  maxims :  "  You  can  bribe 
anybody,  but  not  everybody  " — and  had  imagined  he 
could  keep  even  the  breath  of  scandal  from  touching 
her.  Now,  there  she  lay,  stricken  down,  trampled,  torn, 
befouled,  and  all  because  he  had  been  an  arrogant,  head 
long  fool.  He  flung  away  the  paper,  bent  his  head  upon 
his  clenched  fists  and  groaned  and  gnashed  his  teeth. 
What  should  he  do  ?  What  could  he  do  ?  To  speak 
about  her  was  to  convince  the  public  of  her  guilt,  was 
to  inflame  and  encourage  those  attacking  her ;  to  de 
fend  a  woman's  reputation  is  to  admit  it  needs  defend 
ing.  He  paced  the  floor ;  he  smote  his  temples  until  his 
head  seemed  about  to  blow  open.  His  fury  was  terrible 
as  a  tempest-goaded  sea's  assault  upon  a  rocky  coast — 
and  as  futile.  Insane  with  helpless  rage  he  raved 
against  the  hopeless,  immutable  facts  of  her  plight, 
like  a  child  beating  its  bare  hands  upon  the  stone 
against  which  it  has  clumsily  fallen.  Simcox  entered; 
he  was  horror-stricken  at  sight  of  Murdock's  foam- 
flecked  lips  and  twisted  features  and  wildly  rolling, 
bloodshot  eyes.  "  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  he  in  his 
usual  solemn,  monotonous  tones,  "  but  here's  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Blagden.  He  telegraphed  me  to  see  that  you. 
got  it  at  once." 

422 


THE   STORM  BURSTS 


Simcox,  monotonous  and  matter  of  fact,  took  him 
off  his  guard.  Before  he  realized  what  he  was  doing, 
he  had  taken  the  note,  had  torn  it  open,  was  reading: 

SIR  : 

As  you  will  doubtless  know  before  you  get  this,  my  mis 
sion  was  a  failure.  I  did  all  I  could  to  dissuade  Mrs.  Mur 
dock,  though  it  was  against  my  conscience  to  do  so. 

I  herewith  tender  my  resignation,  to  take  effect  at  once. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

MELVILLE  BLAGDEN. 

He  crumpled  the  note  and  cast  it  from  him.  In 
itself,  it  had  made  not  the  faintest  impression ;  but  the 
interruption,  slight  though  it  was,  yet  gave  his  reason 
the  chance  to  rally  and  reassert  control.  With  him, 
to  think  was  to  think  intelligently,  and  to  think  in 
telligently  was  to  act.  "  Wait !  "  he  commanded,  as 
Simcox  moved  to  withdraw.  Then,  after  a  few  sec 
onds,  "  Have  my  car  attached  to  the  first  train  for 
New  York.  No.  Have  them  make  it  up  in  a  special 
to  go  at  once." 

Next  morning's  newspapers,  east  and  west,  led  off 
their  great  second  day  instalment  of  the  scandal  with 
flaming  announcement  that  Murdock  was  rushing  to 
New  York  by  special  train.  As  it  steamed  into  the 
Grand  Central  station,  reporters  swarmed  round  the 
steps  of  the  private  car.  Murdock,  youthful,  hand 
some,  carefully  dressed,  audacious,  appeared  upon  the 
platform.  He  surveyed  the  group  of  agents  of  pub 
licity  with  a  calm,  cynical  smile.  Just  behind  them 
stood  Viola  Hastings,  "  got  up  regardless,"  as  she 
would  have  put  it.  Her  small,  delicate,  roguish  face  was 

423 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

all  smiles.  Murdock  descended,  pushed  through  the 
crowd,  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  told  you  I'd  be  free  within  a  year,"  cried  he, 
loudly  enough  for  all  to  hear.  "  I  win  by  four  days." 

One  of  the  reporters  recognized  Viola,  whispered 
excitedly  to  the  others.  "  We  came,"  said  one  frank- 
faced  youth,  edging  up  to  Murdock,  "  because  of  the 
talk  about  you  and  your  wife.  But  it  seems  to  be 
false."  And  he  bowed  to  Viola  as  if  he  thought  she 
were  Mrs.  Murdock. 

"  This  is  not  my  late  wife,"  said  Murdock,  appar 
ently  highly  amused.  "  This  is  a  very  dear  friend  of 
mine." 

He  took  Viola's  arm  with  affectionate  familiarity; 
they  walked  down  the  platform  to  his  waiting  carriage, 
he  seeming  to  enjoy  as  much  as  did  she  the  glances 
of  amazement,  horror,  indignation,  shot  at  them  from 
every  side,  as  they  pushed  through  the  crowd. 

The  whole  country  rang  with  Murdock's  shameless 
immorality,  his  studied  insolence  to  public  decency. 
Every  newspaper  described  at  length  the  scene  at  the 
station,  how  several  fashionable  hotels  had  turned 
away  the  "  guilty  couple "  openly  applying  for  ac 
commodations  ;  how  they  "  finally  found  shelter  in  the 
Hastings  woman's  establishment  on  the  west  side." 

"Are  you  mad,  Murdock?  Are  you  mad?"  cried 
Langdon,  his  chief  ally  in  finance,  who  hunted  him  out 
that  morning.  "  You  have  made  yourself  an  outcast. 
Yes,  you  must  be  quite  mad.  I've  known  men  to  lose 
their  heads  about  women,  many's  the  time.  But,  by 
God,  nothing  like  this.  And  you're  the  last  man  on 
earth  I'd  have  suspected." 

"  '  A  fool  at  forty  is  a  fool  indeed,'  "  quoth  Mur 
dock.  "  You  see,  Mowbray,  I  didn't  sow  my  wild  oats 


THE   STORM   BURSTS 


in  season.     These  out-of-season  crops  are  always  diffi 
cult  and  costly." 

"  I  hope  it's  true  you're  taking  her  abroad  to-mor 


row." 

"  Yes." 


"  Still,  the  mischief's  done.  You've  contributed 
more  to  stir  up  the  unruly  masses  against  the  upper 
class  than  all  the  financial  scandals  together." 

"  Hypocrites,"  jeered  Murdock. 

"  Of  course.  But  how  does  that  help  matters  ? 
You'd  much  better  have  outraged  public  virtue  than 
public  hypocrisy.  Outraged  virtue  has  a  certain  hu 
mility  and  meekness;  but  an  outraged  hypocrisy  is  an 
unappeasable  raging  lion." 

Murdock  listened  with  a  faint,  pleased  smile.  "  Get 
out  and  roar  with  the  rest,  old  man,"  counseled  he. 
"  If  you  don't  heave  your  brick  and  heave  it  hard, 
you'll  be  under  suspicion." 

"Mad!     Quite  mad!" 

"  As  for  my  flaunting  the  vices  of  the  rich — my; 
dear  Langdon,  vice  is  human ;  riches  simply  do  not  rob 
a  man  of  that  part  of  human  nature,  though  they  do 
strip  him  of  most  other  human  qualities.  Tell  me, 
what  the  hell's  the  use  of  having  power  if  one  can't 
use  it  as  he  pleases  ?  " 

"  Mad !     Quite  mad !     Thank  God,  you're  getting  ' 
out  of  the  country." 

Murdock's  eyes  flashed.  "  That's  my  one  regret. 
I'd  like  to  stay  and  amuse  myself  with  my  hypocritical 
countrymen." 

He  and  "  the  woman  for  whom  he  had  wrecked  his 

home  "  sailed  away  at  dawn  the  next  morning.     And 

his  heart  was  for  the  moment  as  light  as  hers;  for  it 

had  been  published  broadcast :  "  The  Hastings  woman, 

28  425 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

who  has  been  Murdock's  friend  the  past  two  or  three 
years,  was  prior  to  that  employed  for  a  time  in  Dan- 
gerfield's,  the  woman's  establishment  built  up  by  the 
genius  of  Miss  Juliet  Raeburn.  It  was  through  the 
fact  of  this  employment  of  the  Hastings  woman  that 
many  were  led  into  grave  misapprehension  regarding 
the  Murdock  divorce." 


XXXI 

MR.    BLAGDEN    PLAYS    TRUMPS 

INSTEAD  of  enjoying  the  cyclone  which,  originating 
in  the  tiny  swirl  of  gossip  at  Saint  X's  Country  Club, 
was  raging  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land,  Sophy 
hid  herself  and  peered  out  at  it  in  amazement,  in  ter 
ror,  and  in  anger.  Her  amazement  was  that  of  the 
fisherman  who,  merely  uncorking  a  washed-up  bottle, 
saw  issue  from  it  a  vast  and  awful  monster  that  over 
spread  sea  and  land  and  obscured  the  heavens.  Her 
terror  was  even  greater  than  her  wonder;  for  she,  by 
nature  retiring  and  shy,  was  all  in  a  twinkling  whisked 
from  privacy  to  be  exploited  in  print  to  the  minutest 
details  of  her  routine  of  life.  But  anger  soon  dis 
tanced  amazement  and  even  terror.  In  the  press,  in 
the  pulpit,  among  her  friends,  to  make  Murdock's  in 
famy  the  blacker,  to  point  homily, and  to  barb  jeremiad, 
she  was  represented  as  the  faded  faithful  wife,  whom 
mercy  should  have  constrained  him  to  endure,  though 
inclination  had  fled  and  the  strong  chains  of  duty  to 
his  children  and  dread  of  public  opinion  were  not 
strong  enough  to  bind.  He  was  condemned;  but  she 
— she  was  commiserated.  u  Poor  thing ! — still,  what 
could  she  expect?  "  It  gave  her  a  sensation  of  acute 
nausea  to  see  such  phrases  as  "  noble  patient  wife," 
and  "motherly."  "7  don't  look  motherly*"  she 
wailed  miserably  at  a  very  motherly  looking  picture 

427 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

of  her  in  one  of  the  newspapers.  "  Or,  If  I  do,  I'll  see 
that  I  get  over  it.  Why,  I'm  a  young  woman  yet. 
I'll  show  them!" 

Thus,  though  Murdock's  inspiration  of  insolence 
completely  turned  suspicion  from  the  one  person  she 
had  sought  to  reach  and  overwhelm,  so  occupied  was 
she  with  her  own  woes  that  she  accepted  it  as  merely 
another,  and  by  no  means  the  largest  or  bitterest  drop 
in  her  brimming  cup  of  bitterness.  She  shut  herself 
away,  even  excluding  Charley  and  Norma,  to  get  what 
consolation  she  might  from  discussing  with  tactful  and 
stanch  Blagden  all  aspects  of  her  troubles,  all  phases 
of  Murdock's  wickedness — and,  also,  the  disposition  of 
the  wealth  that  was  now  hers.  She  was  not  mercenary ; 
in  fact,  she  had  no  more  than  her  share  of  woman's  in 
stinctive  thrift.  But  she  was  human.  It  was  irritat 
ing  to  her  that  the  gossips  were  greatly  underestimat 
ing  the  amount  she  had  got  in  the  settlement.  She 
began  to  hint  to  Blagden  to  correct  the  misstatements 
going  the  round  of  the  newspapers. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  he.     "  Let's  think  it  over." 

He  had  learned  from  Murdock  never  to  make  an 
important  move  on  impulse.  He  was  glad  of  his  cau 
tion  when  he  bethought  him  that  anything  which 
tended  to  increase  Sophy's  importance  and  value  in  the 
public  mind  just  then  would  increase  his  own  difficul 
ties.  "  Why,"  reflected  he,  "  she'd  immediately  be  sur 
rounded  by  a  swarm  of  flatterers  and  fortune  hunters." 

"  On  consideration,"  replied  he,  when  she  brought 
the  matter  up  again,  "  don't  you  think  you'd  be  giving 
Murdock's  friends  a  good  weapon  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  she,  alarmed. 

"  They  would  harp  on  his  generosity  to  you.  As 
if  you  were  not  entitled  to  all  he  gave,  and  more !  But 

428 


MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

you've  learned  how  tKe  world  Is."  Then,  seeing  that 
he  had  convinced  her,  he  added :  "  Of  course,  I  may  be 
mistaken.  If  you  wish,  I'll  see  that  the  exact  amount  is 
announced." 

"  No !  No !  "  she  cried.  She  was  appalled  by  the 
blunder  she  had  thought  of  committing.  "  What  ever 
would  become  of  me  without  you!  I  do  believe  these 
low  hypocrites  would  have  made  a  hero  of  him  and 
would  have  attacked  me  openly." 

"  I  fear  they  would,"  said  Blagden. 

She  gave  him  a  look  of  deep  admiration.  "  How 
clever  you  are !  How  fortunate  /  am !  " 

Murdock's  ability,  being  beyond  her  and  exercised 
wholly  outside  her  sphere,  had  made  slight  and  hazy 
impression ;  but  Blagden's  shrewdness  was  within  her 
range,  was  exhibited  in  her  own  intimate  affairs. 
"  How  lucky  I  am ! "  she  repeated,  half  to  herself. 

Blagden  thrilled.  Our  opinion  of  anyone  depends 
chiefly  upon  whether  our  point  of  view  is  sympathetic 
or  the  reverse.  The  finest  human  character  cannot 
withstand  criticism ;  and  the  worst  has  charms  for  him 
or  her  who  is  determined  to  see  charm.  It  was  no  hy 
pocrisy,  no  effort,  for  Blagden  to  fall  deeply,  disin 
terestedly  in  love  with  Sophy.  She  felt  that  he  appre 
ciated  her;  she,  therefore,  showed  him  the  best  side  of 
her  nature,  took  care  to  dress  herself  becomingly  for 
his  benefit,  responded  to  the  stimulus  of  his  admiration, 
began  to  long  to  live  up  to  his  very  human  and  livable 
ideal  of  her.  And  he  set  about  realizing  his  ambition 
to  make  her  better  and  still  better,  especially  to  bring 
out  the  physical  charms  that  had  been  hers  and  were 
still  hers,  though  in  partial  adipose  eclipse.  He  was 
most  adroit,  managed  her  so  deferentially  that,  while 
flattering  her  vanity  into  assuring  her  he  thought  her 

429 


"OLD   WIVES   FOR   "NEW- 

perfect,  he  stirred  her  common  sense  to  show  her  how- 
she  could  be  what  he  thought  her.  She  took  walks 
with  him,  long  walks,  and  finally  climbs ;  she  hunted  out 
and  adopted  the  diet  Schulze  had  once  prescribed.  She 
reestablished  Secor's  long-neglected  beauty  regimen, 
brought  from  New  York  a  masseuse  recommended  by 
him,  to  teach  and  to  assist  Katy.  And,  as  she  was  still 
to  the  youthful  side  of  youthful  forty,  and  had  by  in 
heritance  both  constitution  and  vitality,  the  results 
were  what  might  have  been  expected.  The  health  she 
had  got  in  her  youth  of  out-door  farm  life  reasserted 
itself  in  all  its  age-  and  decay-defying  vigor.  Com 
plexion  became  clear,  wonderfully  white,  radiant;  adi 
pose  envelope  melted;  hips  shrank  toward  modester 
sightliness;  her  natural  body,  her  natural  arms,  and 
legs  and  throat  were  soon  reemerging,  and  in  her  face 
the  eyes  and  the  fine  delicate  nose  began  to  dominate 
instead  of  cheeks.  Never  had  love — the  love  that  in 
spires — wrought  his  miracles  more  quickly  or  more 
beautifully. 

"  Dear  me,  how  well  you're  looking,  Sophy !  "  said 
Mrs.  Monfort,  just  returned  from  Europe  and  meeting 
her  at  the  Country  Club  several  months  after  the  great 
scandal  had  burst  and  vanished.  "  You've  got  your 
figure  back,  haven't  you?  You  really  don't  look  a  day 
over  thirty-five." 

Sophy  winced,  as  Mrs.  Monfort  had  intended. 
"  Well,  you  know  I  am  seven  years  younger  than  you, 
Jane,"  she  answered,  with  the  genuine  sweetness  of  sat 
isfaction  in  a  thrust  parried  and  returned.  "  Now  that 
my  mind  is  free,  I'm  beginning  to  be  myself." 

Mrs.  Monfort  smiled  the  smile  that  invites  confi 
dences.  "  Then,  too,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  there's 
nothing  like  falling  in  love  for  freshening  a  woman  up^ 

430 


MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

Kate  Dorsey  says  she  has  a  love  affair  regularly  every 
five  years,  just  as  a  tonic." 

Sophy's  cheeks  flamed.  So  that  was  the  latest  gos 
sip!  A  love  affair  between  her  and  Blagden!  Her 
expression  was  so  forbidding  that  Jane  Monfort,  pry 
ing  though  she  was  under  pretense  of  a  joyous  and 
frank  interest  in  the  affairs  of  her  friends,  did  not  dare 
pursue  the  subject.  A  day  or  so  later  it  was  Charley. 
He  looked  after  Blagden  riding  away  on  a  hack  Sophy 
had  bought  him  when  she  got  one  for  herself.  "  Gad, 
mother,"  said  he  sourly,  "  that  chap's  giving  himself 
no  end  of  airs.  He  acts  as  if  he  were  master  here." 

"Mr.  Blagden  is  manager  here,"  replied  his 
mother.  "  He  has  absolute  authority.  And  very 
grateful  I  am.  I'd  not  be  able  to  get  on  without  him." 

Charley,  convinced  by  the  flatteries  of  servants  and 
hangers-on  that  he  was  a  person  of  force  and  genius, 
competent  to  the  most  abstruse  matters  without  need 
of  experience,  proceeded  to  unburden  himself  in  dis 
charge  of  his  duty  as  head  of  the  family.  "  I  tell  you 
candidly,  mother,"  said  he,  "  the  thing  doesn't  look 
well.  Of  course,  I  understand  how  it  is.  I  know  you 
regard  Blagden  as  simply  a  useful  employee.  But 
people  will  talk.  You  forget  he  may  misunderstand 
your  courtesy.  I  haven't  a  doubt  he  has  his  eye  on 
your  fortune." 

Charley  was  even  more  unfortunate  than  usual 
there.  His  mother  bridled,  as  any  woman  must  at  the 
suggestion  that  her  charms  are  not  sufficient  to  ac 
count  for  her  fascination.  "  You  attend  to  your  own 
business !  If  it  hadn't  been  for  Mr.  Blagden,  I'd  have 
taken  you  out  of  Yale  and  put  you  in  Tecumseh  this 
fall." 

"  Tecumseh !  "  Into  his  accent  the  young  man  con- 
431 


OLD   WIVES  FOR   NEW 

centrated  all  the  alarm  and  repulsion  which  filled  him 
at  the  suggestion  of  his  going  to  a  college  where  all 
the  students  were  compelled  to  work  their  way  through 
and  to  live  on  what  they  made  by  their  own  efforts  in 
the  college's  mines,  factories,  farms,  and  stores. 

"  Your  sister  says  it'd  make  a  man  of  you.  But 
Mr.  Blagden  insists  it's  better  for  you  to  get  the  edu 
cation  of  a  gentleman,  among  gentlemen.  And  he 
begged  me  not  to  cut  down  your  allowance.  But  I 
haven't  made  my  mind  up  about  that  yet." 

Charley  lapsed  into  sulky  silence.  He  said  no  more 
against  Blagden,  was  on  the  contrary  most  affable  to 
him.  "  At  least  redney's  well  born  and  well  bred,"  re 
flected  he — he  was  rapidly  expanding  into  a  rare  flower 
of  Eastern  culture.  "  And  the  only  reason  he  isn't  in 
our  class  is  his  lack  of  money.  He's  doing  a  grand 
work,  coaching  mother  up  to  the  responsibilities  of  our 
social  position.  Even  if  he  has  the  impudence  of  think 
ing  of  marrying  her,  she's  got  pride  enough  to  put 
him  in  his  place." 

But  now  it  was  Blagden's  turn.  He  had  been  in 
high  spirits,  laughing,  jesting,  giving  the  Eyrie  an 
atmosphere  of  brightness  it  had  never  had  in  all  its 
dismal  history  as  the  mausoleum  of  the  elder  Dumont, 
the  prison  of  John  Dumont's  wife,  and  the  scene  of  the- 
downfall  of  the  family  life  of  the  Murdock's.  He  had 
had  Sophy  awake  and  alert  all  the  time,  both  talking 
and  listening,  and  in  the  best  spirits.  There  was  her 
self  to  talk  about  and  to  be  talked  about  hours  on 
hours.  And,  for  change,  there  was  Murdock  as  a  topic 
— an  inexhaustible  vein  of  conversation,  that;  enough 
to  last  a  long  lifetime,  enough  in  itself  to  form  the 
closest  bond  between  them.  All  at  once,  this  spring  of 
gayety  and  life  and  interest  became  dry.  Blagden 

432 


MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

grew  silent,  murky,  morose  even.  He  avoided  Sophy, 
was  distant  with  her,  made  a  great  show  of  respecting 
their  relations  of  secretary  and  employer.  Sophy  ac 
cused  Charley  of  having  offended  him,  but  the  young 
man  stoutly  denied  this. 

"  I  like  him,"  said  he.  "  And  I  think  he's  the  best 
possible  helper  for  you.  Look  how  he  keeps  up  the 
house  and  grounds.  Why,  there's  no  place  in  Saint  X 
that  looks  anywhere  near  so  well  as  ours.  And  it's  his 
doing.  What  an  air  these  hydrangeas  give  the  ap 
proach  to  the  house !  " 

Sophy  now  felt  that  her  instinct's  reading  must  be 
correct.  But  she  could  not  summon  the  courage  to 
speak  out  to  him  directly,  so  deep  was  her  humility 
about  herself  in  the  comparison  with  him.  The  solid 
virtues  put  one  at  ease;  but  the  showy  virtues,  where 
they  impress  at  all,  dazzle  and  awe.  Blagden's  dress,  his 
aristocratic  air,  his  reserve  under  a  surface  of  engag 
ing  simplicity  and  frankness —  Sophy  fell  to  color 
ing  and  inwardly  quaking  at  sight  of  him,  but  speak 
she  could  not. 

In  truth,  Blagden's  mood  was  different  from  what 
she  imagined,  from  what  he  himself  imagined.  As  soon 
as  he  saw  he  had  the  game  in  his  own  hands,  he  permitted 
conscience  to  begin  to  reproach  him  for  his  far  from 
creditable  aids  to  fate  in  bringing  about  the  divorce  and 
the  improvement  in  his  own  prospects.  When  the  hour 
for  action  strikes,  the  man  who  guides  his  life  by  the 
code  of  success  puts  conscience  and  sympathy  and  all 
the  gentle  feelings  to  the  rear,  as  an  army  its  women 
before  battle.  But  when  the  action  is  over  and  the  suc 
cess  won,  the  gentler  considerations-  are  once  more  ad 
mitted.  There  is  a  time  for  ruthless  action ;  there  is  a 
time  for  repentance.  Blagden,  now'  that  repentance 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

could  do  his  plans  no  harm,  was  deeply  and  sincerely 
repentant. 

"  I  don't  deserve  her,"  he  said  to  himself  funereally. 
"  Of  course,  all's  fair  in  love — and  I  loved  her,  and  I  was 
working  for  her  happiness.  Still,  I  wish  to  God  it  hadn't 
been  necessary  to  do  some  of  the  things  I  had  to  do. 
If  I  should  win  her  finally  I  must  make  amends.  Never 
again  will  I  do  anything  anybody  could  misconstrue 
into  rascality — yes,  rascality ! "  And  he  felt  he  was 
indeed  doing  heavy  penance,  when  he  laid  upon  his  aris 
tocratic  sensitiveness  the  lash  of  that  base  word. 

Day  after  day  he  persisted  in  this  penitential  mood, 
the  more  resolutely  because  its  outward  manifestations 
were  obviously  helping  his  plans  along.  At  last  he  de 
cided  he  could  afford  the  luxury  of  an  honest  attempt 
at  complete  renunciation;  as  Sophy's  eyes  were  full  of 
pathetic  appeal  every  time  they  met  his  he  felt  he  could 
get  full  credit  with  his  conscience,  without  in  the  least 
imperiling  his  plans — the  reverse.  Happy  is  the  man 
who  can  so  order  his  affairs  that  duty  will  drive  him  to 
the  goal  to  which  inclination  beckons! 

When  it  seemed  to  him  the  right  moment  had  come 
he  dressed  with  the  most  painstaking  attention,  linger 
ing  over  the  small  details  of  his  toilet  with  an  anxiety 
that  would  excite  the  derision  of  those  who  do  not  appre 
ciate  the  importance  of  detail.  No  great  man,  not  even 
the  dandified  first  Napoleon,  about  to  enter  a  council  of 
state,  ever  looked  more  carefully  to  arrangement  of  hair, 
to  color  and  knot  of  scarf,  to  set  of  collar  and  crease  of 
trouser  leg  and  coat  sleeve  than  did  Blagden  about  to 
play  his  final  trump  in  the  game  that  held  for  him  in 
its  event  happiness  and  affluence  or  chagrin  and  servi 
tude.  Nor  did  he  neglect  the  admonition  of  Whistler 
that  art  is  not  in  showing  pains  but  in  effacing  all  traces 

434 


MB.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

of  it.  With  not  a  hair  out  of  place,  and  not  a  hair  look 
ing  as  if  he  had  given  it  a  thought,  he  sought  Sophy 
in  her  own  sitting  room  at  an  hour  when  he  knew  they 
would  not  be  interrupted.  As  his  solicitude  about  ap 
parently  frivolous  details  was  not  vanity  but  apprecia 
tion  of  the  proper  means  toward  a  given  end,  he  did  not 
look  at  her  for  the  flattery  of  an  admiring  glance.  His 
mind  was  composed  for  his  part;  his  stiffness,  his  mel 
ancholy,  his  dignity  were  real,  as  he  said : 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  I  have  come  to  tell  you  I  must  go." 

As  he  spoke  he  glanced  at  her  and  away — the  high 
est  art — the  art  that  conceals  his  art  even  from  the 
artist.  For  in  that  glance  he  had  seen  the  woman  he 
loved,  the  woman  who  had  grown  dearer  and  dearer  to 
him  as  he  had  watched  her  and  developed  her  like  a 
gardener  a  rare  flower.  She  was  looking  sweet  and 
even  lovely.  She  had  figure  and  also  beauty  of  face ;  her 
hair  was  tastefully  arranged,  her  eyes,  her  nose,  her 
teeth,  her  skin  were  fine.  She  seemed  not  a  day  over 
thirty — younger  than  he;  like  an  elder  sister  of  her 
daughter.  "  Go  ?  "  she  echoed  in  a  frightened  voice,  and 
the  morning  paper  slipped  from  her  trembling  hand  to 
the  floor.  It  was  now  a  thoroughly  manicured  hand; 
the  polished,  beveled  nails  were  exquisite. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  it  out,"  he  went  on,  almost 
coldly.  "  There  are  reasons  which  I  perhaps  ought  to 
confess  to  you.  But  I  cannot.  I  must  resign  and  go." 

"  I  can't  get  along  without  you !  " 

The  color  came  into  his  cheeks,  a  most  becoming  ex 
pression  of  sincere  gratitude  into  his  eyes.  "  It  is  very 
good  of  you  to  say  that.  I  have  done  my  best  to  make 
amends  by  doing  all  I  could  to  lighten  your  burdens." 

"  Make  amends  ?    I  don't  understand." 

"  I  can't  explain.  I  haven't  the  courage.  ...  As 
435 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

soon  as  you  can  make  other  arrangements,  I  ask  you  to 
release  me." 

Sophy  was  on  the  verge  of  tears.  She  felt  the  props, 
all  the  props,  slipping  from  under  her  comfortable  life. 
"  And  here,"  said  she,  "  I  was  thinking  how  smoothly 
and  happily  everything  was  going."  The  tears  were 
coursing  down  her  cheeks  now.  "  It  seems  I'm  fated  to 
be  miserable.  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born !  " 

"  Don't !  "  Blagden  entreated.  "  It  is  my  duty  to 
go.  Please  don't  appeal  to  my  weakness." 

"  You  simply  mustn't  go,"  she  cried,  encouraged  to 
redouble  her  entreaties.  "  You  can  have  anything  you 
want — aw^thing."  She  gave  him  a  long  look,  smiled 
softly  through  her  tears  —  and  an  altogether  alluring 
mouth  she  had,  now  that  the  gold  fillings  in  her  front 
teeth  were  replaced  by  perfectly  matched  and  wonder 
fully  mortised  porcelain.  "  Anything  1 "  she  repeated. 

He  interlaced  his  fingers  to  restrain  himself. 
"  Sophy !  "  he  murmured.  Then  bracing  against  a  very 
real  diffidence :  "  After  all,  why  should  I  be  ashamed  of 
what  I  cannot  help !  How  can  I  help  loving  you  ?  I've 
loved  you  for  years.  And  instead  of  getting  myself 
under  control,  as  I  thought  I  would,  if  I  had  other  re 
sponsibilities  toward  you,  I —  Sophy,  I  cannot  bear  it. 
I  must  go  away." 

She  had  grown  pale.  Her  lips  trembled  with  ner 
vousness.  She  said,  tenderly  and  sweetly,  "  I  said  you 
could  have — aw^thing." 

He  took  her  hands  and  kissed  them.  And  his  trem 
ors,  his  color,  the  light  in  his  eyes  set  her  to  thrilling 
with  a  passion  that  had  been  dormant  since  motherhood 
and  her  first  lover's  impetuosity  had  withered  it  down 
to  those  tenaciously  vital  roots  which  only  age  can  kill. 
She  disengaged  one  of  her  hands  and  gently  stroked  his 

436 


MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

hair.  "  I  love  you,"  she  murmured.  "  You  will  stay, 
won't  you — dear?  " 

He  lowered  his  head,  lest  she  should  see  the  rush  of 
tears  to  his  eyes.  How  ashamed  he  was  of  the  wretched 
intriguing  he  had  done !  "  I  have  made  myself  un 
worthy  of  her,"  he  muttered.  And  aloud  he  said  in  a 
sad,  firm  voice,  "  I  can't,  Sophy.  I  can't." 

"  I  tell  you,  I  love  you,"  she  repeated,  the  warm 
beauty  of  her  passion  in  her  voice  and  in  her  face.  "  I 
didn't  realize  it  until — just  lately.  But  I  suppose  I 
wouldn't  have  made  him  let  me  get  the  divorce — "  No, 
it  was  no  time  for  lying;  before  this  deep  emotion  she 
dared  not  be  insincere —  "  I  mean,  wouldn't  have  got 
a  divorce — if  I  hadn't  seen  where  my  future  lay." 

He  released  her  hand,  went  to  the  window. 

"  Do  you  despise  me  for  confessing  that — ^that  I 
cared  for  you  while  I  was  still — not  divorced  ?  "  She 
said  this  pathetically.  "  I  know  it  was  wicked,"  she  went 
on,  "  but  I — I  couldn't  help  it.  I  was  so  alone.  I  had 
been  so  alone  for  years." 

He  turned  impetuously.  "  Don't  make  me  loathe 
myself ! "  he  cried.  "  If  you  knew,  how  you  would 
scorn  me ! " 

She  gazed  at  him  tenderly,  admiring  his  bright  hair, 
the  proud  poise  of  his  head  upon  athletic  shoulders,  the 
straight,  aristocratically  narrow  figure  that  appeared  to 
the  best  advantage  in  the  well-draped  English  clothes 
he  was  wearing.  "  Scorn  you?  "  She  laughed  gently. 
"  Why,  of  course  you're  human.  We  all  do  things  we 
oughtn't.  And  women  don't  inquire  into  the  pasts  of 
men — not  sensible  women." 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "  I'm  too  hard  on  myself," 
he  thought.  At  least,  he  had  been  true  to  her.  If  he 
had  not,  if  his  offenses  had  been  of  that  character,  would 

437 


OLO   WIVES   FOE   NEW 

he  be  hesitating?  Really,  had  not  his  actual  sins  been 
far  less  grave,  as  between  her  and  him? 

"  What  is  it — dear?  "  she  urged,  going  toward  him, 
drawn  by  that  look.  "  There's  something  you  are  not 
telling  me." 

"  I  can't  give  you  up,  Sophy !  "  he  cried,  advancing 
toward  her  passionately,  then  halting. 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Must  I  do  all  the 
courting,  Melville?  "  she  said,  tenderness  and  mischief  in 
her  eyes.  "  I  don't  care  what  you've  done.  I  know 
what  you  are  to  me,  and  that's  all  I  want  to  know." 

Their  lips  met.  "  You  are  so  good,  so  beautiful,"  he 
murmured,  kissing  her  between  phrases,  and  holding  her 
tightly  against  him.  "  Ah,  how  ashamed  you  make  me 
feel!  But  I  loved  you,  Sophy.  You'd  forgive  me  any 
thing  for  that,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

Her  answer  was  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  her  lips 
upon  his.  Indeed  she  would.  Those  days  of  his  morose- 
ness,  with  no  sympathetic  talker  and  listener  about  her 
past  and  her  future,  had  taught  her  how  she  needed  him, 
how  unthinkable  life  was  without  him,  and  him  in  a  good 
humor. 

He  presently  went  on :  "  I'll  soon  get  what  I  must 
have,  to  be  happy  with  you.  I  feel  that  my  love,  our 
love,  will  sharpen  my  wits.  We  must  be  on  an  equality, 
Sophy.  I  could  never  consent  to  be  merely  a  rich  wom 
an's  husband.  You  can  call  it  false  pride — and  no  doubt 
it  is.  But  that's  the  way  I  feel,  and  I'd  be  unhappy  if  I 
married  you  and  were  dependent  on  you." 

"  I  should  think  so ! "  she  exclaimed.  She  pushed 
him  away  into  a  chair.  She  seated  herself  on  the  arm  of 
it.  He  tried  to  draw  her  into  his  lap,  but  she  laughingly 
resisted.  "  No,  I'm  too  heavy — yet,"  said  she.  Both 
laughed,  and  he  forced  her  to  slip  down  and  made  her 

438 


MR.  BLAGDEN  PLAYS  TRUMPS 

r«.OMBaMHBnBHBiBBMBBB^MBBBBMMi^v«MMaBBMn*HHBMB«MBHBB**M«BBM^BHBBBMMMB«iH^^BMH 

very,  very  comfortable.  "  Now,"  she  said,  "  we're  going 
to  talk  sense.  We're  not  children;  so  I  can  speak 
frankly.  I  wouldn't  for  a  moment  tolerate  the  idea  of 
the  man  I  loved  being  a  dependent  on  anybody.  And 
I'll  see  to  it  that  you  are  not." 

Tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  In  a  social  system  based 
upon  material  gain,  money  represents  the  supreme  test 
of  generosity.  He  had  not  believed  such  generosity  as 
Sophy  was  here  showing  existed  anywhere  in  human 
nature.  It  awed  him;  it  tinged  his  love  for  her  with 
reverence  for  her  character.  Nor  was  his  fine  feeling 
marred  by  any  cynical-wise  reflection  that  after  all  she 
was  proposing  to  give  what  had  cost  her  nothing.  "  O 
Sophy,  Sophy !  "  he  cried  brokenly. 

"  You're  making  a  great  fuss  about  a  very  tiny 
matter,"  laughed  she,  sincere  in  so  saying,  though  she 
would  have  thought  him  most  unappreciative  had  he 
agreed  with  her.  "  What  is  money  for  but  to  get  hap 
piness?  And — "  She  pressed  her  cheek  against  his — 
"  you  are  my  happiness." 

"  I  can't !     I  can't !  "  he  muttered. 

"  You'd  make  me  wretched,  all  for  nothing?  No,  no, 
dear.  I  know  your  heart  better  than  that.  Some  women 
can  get  along  without  anybody  to  look  after  them.  I'm 
not  one  of  that  kind.  I'm  the  old-fashioned  sort  of 
woman — '  the  sort  mother  used  to  make.'  I've  got  to  be 
taken  care  of.  I've  needed  it  always.  I  never  had  it. 
That's  why — "  She  interrupted  herself.  "  But,  no  mat 
ter.  That's  all  past  and  gone.  At  least,  I  don't  feel 
like  talking  about  it  just  now."  She  kissed  him,  pressed 
her  hands  to  his  cheeks,  smiled  softly  into  his  eyes, 
"  Whose  duty  is  it  to  take  care  of  me?  " 

"  There's   only  one  answer  to  that,"  he  admitted. 

«  But " 

439 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  It's  settled,"  said  she,  putting  her  fingers  on  his 
lips.  "  I'm  going  to  have  my  way  this  once  if  you 
never  let  me  have  it  again." 

"  I'll  think  it  over.  And  you,  too,  must  think  it 
over." 

"  But  you're  not  going  away  to  do  your  thinking ! 
I'd  not  have  a  minute's  peace.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself — making  the  woman  do  all  the  persuading 
and  courting." 

She  was  in  his  arms  again.  "  Not  quite  all,"  he  said. 
«Eh?" 

"  Not  quite,"  she  murmured,  utterly  happy,  happy 
as  never  in  the  day?  of  her  youth,  for  then  she  had  not 
had  the  trials  and  sorrows  that  alone  can  teach  us  to 
appreciate  life's  joys. 


xxxn 


THEY  decided  to  keep  their  secret  for  several 
months — that  is,  until  a  month  or  so  before  their  mar 
riage.  But  such  a  secret  is  not  easily  kept ;  soon  every 
one  in  the  household,  and  that  meant  everyone  in  Saint 
X,  knew  there  was  "  something  doing  "  between  Mrs. 
Murdock  and  her  suave,  elegant  secretary;  and  soon 
thereafter  the  gossip  at  the  Country  Club  was  that 
Murdock  perhaps  deserved  more  sympathy  than  he 
had  got. 

"  A  manly  man,"  observed  Mrs.  Dorsey,  "  will  go  to 
any  length  to  shield  the  mother  of  his  children  from 
scandal.  Does  anybody  know  just  when  Blagden  be 
came  Murdock's  secretary?  I've  been  away  so  much  I 
can't  remember.  Was  it  before  or  after  the  birth  of 
young  Charley?  " 

Everybody  knew  it  was  years,  ten  years  at  least,  after 
Charley's  birth ;  but  nobody  had  so  little  regard  for  the 
general  pleasure  as  to  say  so.  Presently  Mrs.  Vermilye 
remarked : 

"  I  always  wondered  how  Sophy  could  be  content  to 
stay  at  home  and  see  go  few  people.  When  a  woman  gets 
fat  young,  as  fat  as  Sophy  was  until  worry  thinned  her 
down,  it's  supposed  to  be  a  sure  sign  she  has  a  man 
with  whom  she  is  content.  Any  physiologist  will  tell 
you  that." 

29  441 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

And  Mrs.  Monfort  completed  the  syllogism  with: 
"  Certainly,  we  all  know  Sophy's  content  couldn't  have 
come  from  Murdock." 

Charley  began  to  chafe  under  the  hints  and  smirks ; 
but  he  now  had  the  wisdom  to  keep  his  own  counsel — he 
wished  to  go  back  to  Yale,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  have 
his  allowance  cut.  However,  at  the  end  of  the  long  va 
cation,  the  day  before  he  started  East,  his  desire  to  med 
dle  prevailed  with  his  prudence  sufficiently  to  permit  him 
to  enlighten  his  sister,  that  she  might  take  his  place  on 
guard.  "  No  doubt  Blagden  would  gladly  marry  as 
big  a  bunch  as  mother  must  have  now,"  said  he  to 
Norma.  "  And  you  know  mother ;  she'd  be  easy  fruit 
for  as  smooth  a  citizen  as  he." 

Norma  had  her  baby  in  her  lap,  was  crooning  to  it. 
"Well,  what  of  it,  Charley?"  she  replied  in  the  same 
singsong  undertone,  as  the  change  of  voice  might  rouse 
the  sleeper. 

"  What  of  it !  "  cried  Charley. 

«  sh— h !  "  warned  Norma.  "  Sh— h !  "  The  baby 
had  opened  its  big  Degarmo  eyes.  "  Rock-a-by,  baby, 
in  the  treetop " 

"  You  didn't  understand  me,"  pursued  he,  in  a  less 
startling  tone. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  did,"  crooned  his  sister.  "  And  I  repeat, 
what  of  it?  " 

Charley  stared  at  her  in  disgust.  "  Well !  "  was  all 
he  said. 

Norma  went  on  with  soothing  her  baby  until  she  had 
it  sound  asleep.  She  took  it  into  the  adjoining  room 
and  laid  it  in  its  crib.  When  she  returned  she  all  but 
closed  the  door.  "  Don't  shout  and  don't  whisper,"  said 
she.  "  Either  will  start  him  up,  and  it's  his  time  for 
sleep." 

ItfC 


VEST  LA    FIE 


"  I  know  you  don't  want  mother  to  make  a  silly  mar 
riage  any  more  than  I  do,"  proceeded  Charley.  "  The 
trouble  with  you  is,  you're  so  taken  up  with  that  baby 
of  yours  you  can't  think  of  anything  else." 

"  Guilty !  "  said  Norma,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  glory  in  it."  Charley  was  irri 
tated  into  frankness.  "  It's  really  disgraceful.  Why, 
if  I  had  a  wife  and  she  treated  me  as  you  treat  Joe  I'd 
read  the  riot  act.  No  wonder  he  hangs  out  at  the  Coun 
try  Club,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  sopping  up  the 
highballs  and  alternating  golf  and  bridge.  First  thing 
you  know,  one  of  those  good-looking  young  married 
women  up  there  will  succeed  in  getting  him  away  from 
you.  I  should  think  father  and  mother's  case  would 
have  taught  you." 

Norma  made  a  brave  attempt  at  a  smile  of  con 
temptuous  indifference.  "  Always  attending  to  other 
people's  business !  " 

«  Well  —  you  look  out  —  that's  all.  And,  by  gad, 
you're  taking  on  flesh,  too — quite  matronly.  I  was  just 
watching  you  as  you  went  in  with  the  baby.  Your 
back's  booming,  and  your  hips —  Well,  my  dear,  hips 
are  clear  out.  They're  not  only  unfashionable;  they're 
— common." 

Norma  was  furious;  he  had  rudely  ripped  the  veil 
from  truths  she  had  been  for  some  time  carefully  con 
cealing  from  herself. 

"  That's  right,  get  mad  at  me  instead  of  at  the  one 
that's  to  blame."  Nothing  pleased  him  so  much  as 
reducing  some  one  to  speechless  rage  before  a  crushing 
truth.  "  You'd  better  take  a  tumble  to  yourself,"  he 
went  on.  "  And  you  can  look  after  mother  a  bit,  too." 
"  Why  shouldn't  she  marry  Mr.  Blagden  if  she  wants 
to?  "  Norma  asked,  concentrating  her  irritation  against 

443 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

her  brother  upon  that  branch  of  his  lecture  which  gave 
it  an  opening.     "  He's  all  right,  isn't  he?  " 

Charley  stared  at  her.  "  What's  got  into  you,  Nor- 
ma?  Haven't  you  any  moral  sense  left — any  sense  of 
decency  ?  " 

"  Mother  must  have  somebody.  I'm  married.  You 
will  be,  in  a  year  or  so — you're  far  too  susceptible  to 
flattery  to  escape  long,  when  you  have  such  tempting 
prospects." 

"  There' *s  another  reason !  What'll  become  of  us  if 
that  redhead  gets  hold  of  the  dough-bag?  " 

"  Now,  the  truth  is  out ! "  exclaimed  Norma,  teas- 
ingly. 

But  Charley  was  not  disconcerted.  "  Well,  granted 
that's  what  ails  me.  Why  not?  You  and  Joe  have  got 
plenty.  But  what's  to  become  of  me?  I  had  courage,  / 
broke  with  father.  /  haven't  written  to  him." 

Norma  flushed  at  the  insinuation,  but  refused  to 
gratify  her  brother  by  yielding  to  the  temptation  to  de 
fend  herself.  "  Mother  will  look  out  for  you,  never 
fear." 

"  Yes,  but  she's  a  young  woman  yet.  I  never  saw 
anything  like  the  change  in  her.  Suppose  she  marries 
him ;  suppose  there  are  some  more  children " 

"  Charley ! "  She  dropped  into  a  chair  and  cov 
ered  her  face.  She  felt  that  he  had  insulted  their  mother. 

"  Now,  now,  don't  put  on !  "  cried  he.  "  We've  got 
to  face  this  thing.  Whether  what  I  said  is  shocking  or 
not,  isn't  it  likely  ?  " 

Norma  was  silent. 

"  And,"  pursued  her  brother,  "  f ather'll  be  marry 
ing  again.  He's  a  young  man,  and  will  no  doubt  marry 
a  young  woman.  He'd  be  eligible  for  a  girl  just  out  of 
school.  It's  done  every  day — men  older  than  he." 

4M 


C'EST   LA    FIE" 


"  Isn't  it — frightful !  "  Norma's  eyes  showed  how 
profoundly  she  was  shocked. 

"  C'est  la  vie,"  replied  her  brother,  with  a  shrug. 
"  I'm  learning  to  accept  life  without  criticism.  Criticis 
ing  it  seems  rather  futile — like  suggesting  modifications 
in  the  law  of  gravitation  or  denouncing  the  moon  for 
not  shining  full  every  night.  Of  course,  I'd  like  to  have 
the  world  better — not  too  good,  or  I'd  feel  out  of  it — but 
still,  better.  But  I  can't  see  how  it  improves  matters 
to  begin  by  denying  that  the  world  and  the  people  in  it 
are  what  they  are.  Divorce — remarriage — all  part  of 
the  game.  Tout  cela,  c'est  la  vie." 

"  Yes,  it  is  life,"  admitted  Norma  mournfully. 
"  And,  after  all,  father  and  mother  have  the  same  right 
to  seek  happiness  that  we  have." 

Charley's  laugh  was  disagreeable.  "  If  Joe  were  to 
lose  his  money  you  might  not  change  your  pretended 
philosophy,  but  you'd  certainly  cease  to  be  quietly 
resigned." 

"  Perhaps,"  admitted  Norma.  With  reluctance  and 
against  protests  from  illusion  and  delusion,  she  was 
daily  discovering  facts  in  life  and  in  human  nature  she 
had  never  realized  before,  had  often  denied — those  un 
pleasant  hardnesses  beneath  the  velvet  which  have  no 
reality  for  us  until  they  press  brutally  upon  us.  "  What 
do  you  propose?  " 

"  Why,  get  after  mother.     Wake  her  up." 

Norma  reflected  long.  "  It'd  be  of  no  use,"  she 
finally  said,  slowly  shaking  her  head.  "  Besides,  mother 
will  be  left  alone  when  you  marry.  She's  practically 
alone  now.  She's  got  to  have  companionship.  And,  if 
she  must  marry,  why  not  Mr.  Blagden  ?  " 

Charley,  too,  had  been  thinking.  He  could  find  no 
answer  to  his  sister's  question. 

445 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  that  he's  merely  mercenary,'* 
she  went  on.  "  A  man  couldn't  be  as  nice  to  everybody: 
as  he  is  without  having  a  genuinely  good  heart." 

"  I  admit  I've  got  no  objections  to  Blagden  as  a 
man,"  said  Charley.  "  But —  Damn  it  all,  Norma, 
mother  and  father  owe  it  to  us  not  to  marry !  What  a 
rotten,  rotten  mess  they've  made !  " 

Norma  astonished  him  by  looking  emphatic  dissent. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  approve  of  this  scan 
dal!" 

"  No,  no,  Charley,"  she  answered.  "  But  I  can't 
help  seeing  now  that  mother  and  father  weren't  suited 
to  each  other.  Look  how  this  has  roused  her  into  im 
proving  herself.  The  change  in  her  is  almost  mi 
raculous." 

"  I  tell  you,  that's  Blagden." 

"  Well,  isn't  he  a  force  that  couldn't  have  come  into 
her  life  but  for  the  divorce?  And,  surely,  she's  better 
off  than  she  was  before.  She  was  a  burden  to  herself 
and  to  everyone." 

"  If  father  had  done  his  duty " 

"  If  —  if  —  if,"  echoed  Norma  impatiently.  "  Who 
ever  does?  Who  ever  will?  The  truth  is,  they  had  lost 
interest  in  each  other " 

"  Just  as  you  have  in " 

Norma  colored  angrily.  "  If  it  were  true,  your  say 
ing  so  would  still  be  an  impertinence.  But  it  isn't." 

"  Well — look  out,  old  girl.  It  might  become  mutual. 
Your  getting  cross  shows  there's  something  wrong."  He 
clapped  her  good-naturedly  on  the  shoulder.  "  Those 
hips !  And  the  up-to-the-mark  young  married  women  at 
the  club !  And  do  try  to  keep  mother  steady.  Perhaps 
you  are  right  about  her  future.  I  hadn't  thought  of  that. 
.  .  .  I'm  off  to-night.  I  guess  it'll  all  muddle  through 

446 


CEST   LA    VIE" 


somehow.    Gad,  I'm  glad  I  stand  in  with  our  prospective 
papa." 

Norma  winced  again.  She  could  reason  about  the 
situation ;  but  reason  was  unable  to  down  an  instinct  that 
the  whole  performance,  including  her  being  able  to  reason 
calmly  about  it,  was  somehow  immoral.  "  C'est  la  vie," 
she  repeated.  "  But,  since  it  is  life,  why  are  we  brought 
up  to  believe  it  isn't?  The  world  has  changed,  yet  we 
continue  to  be  educated  in  the  ways  and  the  ideas  that 
are  dead."  She  made  a  scornful  face.  "  Hips !  What 
a  low  plane !  "  But  she  went  to  her  dressing  room  and, 
for  the  first  time  in  many  a  month,  examined  her  figure, 
front  and  back,  in  the  long  triple  mirrors.  "  Charley 
was  right,"  she  decided.  "  I  must  '  get  busy.'  "  She 
laughed.  "  Perhaps  not  such  a  low  plane,  after  all. 
Aren't  slovenly  hips  outside  evidence  of  a  slovenly 
inside?" 


XXXIII 


THE  newspaper  cables  reported  Murdock  and  "  the 
Hastings  woman  "  arrived  at  Paris  and,  presently,  in 
stalled  in  an  Avenue  Henri  Martin  villa,  small  but  like 
a  jewel  casket,  so  exquisitely  was  it  carved  without,  so 
delicately  furnished  within.  The  villa  was  historic  and 
had  been  thoroughly  photographed ;  thus,  the  illustrated 
press  was  able  to  stimulate  the  imagination  of  the  pub 
lic.  From  Maine  to  Mexico,  quiet  people,  leading  lives 
far  less  tedious  than  luxurious  vice  ever  afforded,  were 
participating  with  fascinated  horror  in  the  Babylonish 
revels  they  assumed  were  under  wild  and  wicked  way  in 
those  hand-painted,  silk-draped  chambers,  within  those 
carved  and  statued  walls. 

The  truth  was  far  less  commonplace.  Viola,  with 
Lilly  her  faithful  colored  maid  and  several  French  ser 
vants,  was  alone  at  the  villa,  was  leading  the  dreariest 
of  lives,  embittered  by  the  luxury  of  the  solitude — every 
thing  to  enable  one  to  enjoy  life,  but  no  life  to  enjoy. 
Each  afternoon  Murdock  called  in  a  victoria  and  ex 
hibited  himself  with  Viola  at  his  left  during  an  hour's 
drive,  twice  round  the  big  lake  in  the  Bois  and  home 
again.  He  was  living,  or,  rather,  hiding,  at  the  Hotel 
Monsigny,  behind  the  Bourse;  he  chose  it  because  it  was 
frequented  by  continentals  only — no  Americans,  no  Eng 
lish,  no  one  who  would  take  the  faintest  interest  in  his 
movements. 

448 


"LOVE   IN   TIGHT   SHOES" 

For  a  time  the  excitement  of  the  fascinating  streets 
and  shop  windows  and  shops,  the  delirium  of  getting  the 
finery  she  craved  at  the  world's  headquarters  for  finery 
kept  up  Viola's  spirits.  But  not  even  Paris  and  an  all 
but  bottomless  purse,  and  a  procession  of  hair  dressers, 
masseuses,  manicures,  pedicures,  skilled  time-consumers 
all,  could  fill  in  the  whole  of  the  long  days  and  evenings, 
could  for  more  than  a  few  weeks  put  off  the  natural 
effect  of  Murdock's  polite  reserve  and  neglect  upon  her 
warm  and  sociable  temperament.  "  It's  awful,  isn't  it?  " 
wailed  she  to  her  Lilly,  as  she  was  dressing  for  the  daily 
drive.  "  Here  I  might  be  having  such  a  swell  time ! — • 
and  he,  too.  .  .  .  On  the  steamer  you  told  me  he  was 
acting  strange  because  people  we  knew  were  about.  I 
might  have  known  you  were  wrong,  Lilly.  Didn't  I  tell 
you  he  was  friendliest  when  they  were  watching  and 
froze  up  as  soon  as  we  were  alone?  .  .  .  He's  just 
the  kind  of  man  I  could  be  crazy  about,  but  he  won't 
let  me.  What's  the  matter  with  me,  anyway?  Is  there 
any  better-looking  woman?  What  does  he  want  in  a 
woman  ?  " 

"  Lord  knows,  Miss  Vi,"  said  Lilly.  She  was  on  her 
knees,  changing  Viola's  shoes  for  slippers.  "  It  don't 
make  no  difference,  seems  to  me.  Jes'  you  quietly  go 
'long,  takin'  all  you  can  git  your  pretty  hands  on — 
that's  my  advice.  He's  usin'  you  as  some  kind  of  a 
blind,  but  don't  you  let  on.  He's  a  pow'ful  generous 
man,  but  pow'ful  heady,  too.  You  kin  have  all  the  fun 
when  he  settles  up  and  goes  off." 

"  But  I  don't  want  him  to  go !  "  cried  Viola.  And 
she  fell  to  weeping  miserably.  "  O  Lilly !  I  love  him.  I 
do — I  do !  He's  the  only  really  gentleman  I  ever  knew. 
That  wife  of  his  must  have  been  crazy  to  let  him  get 
away.  I  want  him,  and  I  can't  get  near  him.  He's  got 

4.49 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

a  way  of  looking  that  makes  me  freeze  up  on  the  outside 
and  burn  like  a  house  afire  inside." 

Lilly  went  placidly  on  with  unhooking  Viola's  blouse. 
She  worked  slowly ;  for  lack  of  occupation  they  had  be 
gun  the  toilet  for  the  drive  two  hours  before  Murdock 
would  come.  "  Now,  honey,  don't  you  be  a  silly.  You's 
always  f allin'  in  love  that  way  with  any  feller  that's  nice 
to  you.  Us  women's  so  weak.  And  it  ain't  the  way  to 
git  on.  Give  him  what  he  wants,  as  a  sensible  woman 
always  does.  If  he  wants  love,  give  him  love.  If  he 
wants  jes'  a  nice  polished  time,  play  you'se  a  lady.  Be 
glad  when  he  comes,  forgit  him  when  he  goes — and  send 
him  the  bills.  That's  the  way  to  treat  the  men.  But 
don't  you  spoil  them  lovely  eyes  with  no  tears." 

"  But  I  tell  you  I  love  him !  "  cried  Viola,  stamping 
her  foot  angrily. 

"  Of  course  yer  does,  baby,  of  course  yer  does," 
soothed  Lilly,  patting  the  soft  baby  shoulders  as  she 
took  away  the  blouse.  "  And  there  ain't  no  harm  in 
that.  But  love  him  gay  and  cheerful-like."  She  held 
the  dressing  sack  of  chiffon  and  lace.  "  Laws,  birdie ! 
Don't  take  things  to  heart,  as  long  as  the  bills  is  paid. 
Don't  skeer  away  the  first  liberal  spender  yer  ever  got." 

Viola  began  to  dry  her  eyes. 

"  Jes'  think  of  them  stockbroker  tight-wads  with 
4  their  rolls  glued  where  they  ought  to  begin  to  peel. 
Say  nothin'  and  throw  the  hay  into  the  barn." 

This  set  Viola  off  on  the  subject  of  her  bitter  ex 
periences  with  "  tight-wads."  She  was  so  absorbed  that 
an  hour  took  its  leaden,  yawning  self  out  of  the  way 
before  she  returned  to  the  immediate  present.  She  ex 
amined  herself  in  the  full-length,  triple  mirrors. 

"  Now,"  she  said  ruefully,  "  I  do  look  a  sight ! 
You  oughtn't  to  have  let  me  cry,  Lilly.  Whatever  will 

450 


"LOVE   IN   TIGHT  SHOES" 

I  do,  with  my  eyes  swelled  and  my  cheeks  in  streaks, 
and  he  coming  in  half  an  hour." 

She  was  in  corset-cover  and  petticoat,  both  much  be- 
flounced  with  real  lace.  She  turned  her  eyes  from  her 
face  to  her  figure,  with  the  result  that  her  face  instantly 
began  to  improve.  She  put  her  hands  behind  her  head, 
drawing  her  thick  hair  forward  upon  her  slim  young 
shoulders  ;  she  posed  herself  in  attitudes  that  brought  out 
in  succession  the  different  sets  of  graceful  curves  that 
justified  her  self-admiration.  No,  there  was  no  denying 
she  had  the  right  to  be  vain ;  besides,  her  vanity  was  so 
simple,  so  ingenuous,  it  rather  added  to  her  charm.  If 
she  lived  a  hundred  years  she  would  remain  a  child  at 
heart.  She  seated  herself,  all  smiles  and  hope  again. 
Lilly  resumed  dressing  her  hair,  undisturbed  and  but 
little  delayed  by  the  constant  agitations  of  her  head 
necessitated  by  her  emotions.  The  hair  finished,  Lilly 
produced  a  wonderful  pale-blue  carriage  coat  which  had 
just  come  from  Paquin.  It  had  a  broad,  white  collar  and 
cuffs,  and  its  many  buttons  were  huge  and  gold.  "  It's 
even  sweller  than  I  thought,"  said  Viola,  her  eyes  linger 
ing  upon  it  in  loving  tenderness.  "  Now,  get  out  my  hat 
with  the  long,  blue  plume — the  one  that  stands  out. 
And — yes,  I'll  wear  that  new  white  cloth  dress — the 
Callot  one — and " 

So  her  troubles  vanished  for  the  time;  her  face  be 
came  as  smooth  and  sweet  and  young  as  was  its  wont. 
When  she  descended  to  drive  with  Murdock  she  was  bub 
bling  and  sparkling  like  a  forest  spring,  and  as  little 
suggested  care  or  impurity. 

His  formal  smile  softened  at  sight  of  her.  For  the 
moment  he  forgot  how  monotonous  it  was  behind  those 
limpid,  lustrous  eyes,  sparkling  with  invitation  to  im 
pulses  of  passion.  "  You  are  very  charming,  very  Pa- 

451 


OLD   WIVES  FOB  NEW 

risienne  to-day,"  said  he.  And  his  grave  eyes  roamed 
from  her  plumes  down  that  graceful,  gracefully  clad  fig 
ure  to  where  her  skirts,  white  over  delicate  blue,  were 
held  high  to  reveal  stockings  so  diaphanous  that  they 
almost  seemed  an  azure  tint  upon  her  long,  slender  calves 
and  ankles.  "  Very  charming,"  he  repeated. 

This  sufficed  to  lift  her  quite  to  the  dizzy  pinnacle 
of  delight.  Everyone,  looking  back  upon  his  or  her 
years,  recalls  habitually  some  moment  or  hour  or  day 
which  shines  out  of  the  vistas  of  the  past  as  the  very 
best.  In  after  years  Viola  always  recalled  that  drive  as 
her  supreme  moment,  the  high  tide  of  youth  and  joy. 
The  weather  was  perfect;  the  Bois  was  at  its  gayest. 
The  drives  thronged  with  handsome  turn-outs,  each  bear 
ing  at  least  one  woman  dressed  in  exquisite  taste;  the 
walks  and  woods  and  lawns  filled  with  happy,  well- 
dressed,  well-mannered  children  and  their  watchful,  lov 
ing  mothers  and  nurses.  And  Viola  drank  it  all  in, 
slowly,  luxuriously,  enj  oying  each  second  as  if  she  were 
a  child  dreaming  of  fairies  with  no  cloud  upon  delight 
except  a  faint  fear  of  awakening.  "  Can't  we  go  round 
once  more?  "  she  pleaded. 

"  Twice,  if  you  like,"  said  he. 

And  as  they  were  passing  D'Armenonville  he  sug 
gested  tea.  "  If  you  only  would ! "  cried  she,  clasping 
her  hands  in  ecstasy.  As  they  drove,  everyone  had  been 
looking  at  her.  Now  that  they  were  seated  where  her 
beauty  of  face  and  form  and  dress  could  be  surveyed  at 
leisure,  both  the  women  and  the  men  of  that  attractive 
throng  of  idlers  frankly  stared. 

"  There  must  be  something  wrong  with  me,  that 
everyone  is  rubbering  so,"  said  she,  affecting  great  un 
easiness. 

But  her  ruse  was  not  successful  "  It's  your  beauty 
452 


"LOVE   IN   TIGHT   SHOES" 

— and  your  long,  blue  feather,"  replied  he  absently. 
Presently  he  roused  himself  to  say :  "  In  return  for  what 
you've  done  for  me,  it's  only  fair  I  should  do  something 
for  you — something  toward  securing  your  future.  .  .  . 
You're  probably  not  the  most  provident  person  in  the 
world — are  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  a  chance  to  find  out,"  confessed  she. 
"  It  always  took  everything  I  could  get  to  keep  me 
afloat." 

"  Well,  we'd  better  not  risk  it.  No  doubt,  there's 
same  scamp  somewhere  whom  you  think  you  care  for  and 
whom  you'd  give  anything  he  asked." 

"  No,  indeed,"  she  assured  him,  her  eyes  eloquent. 
"  Truly,  there's  nobody — nobody"  There  was  a  little 
catch  in  her  voice  as  she  added  shyly,  "  nobody  else." 

He  laughed  with  careless  incredulity.  "  No  matter. 
It  seems  to  me  it  would  be  wise  to  put  my  investment  for 
you  in  trust.  You  will  have  only  the  income,  but  you'll 
have  that  always." 

She  was  so  happy  that  joy  seemed  to  irradiate  from 
her  like  rays  from  a  star.  "  You're  perfectly  right," 
said  she.  "  I'd  rather  have  it  that  way."  Then  with 
an  absence  of  worldliness  she  would  have  risked,  even 
had  she  not  known  how  safe  she  was,  she  added: 
"  Though  I'm  sure  I've  done  nothing  for  you.  .  .  .  You 
haven't  let  me.  I  never  saw  such  a  man." 

His  face  clouded.  "  I  wish  I  could — I  wish  I  could," 
he  said  to  himself  rather  than  to  her.  "  But  I'm  a 
damn  fool." 

His  expression,  the  outward  sign  of  an  emotion  be 
yond  the  range  of  any  she  was  capable  of  feeling  or 
understanding,  made  her  shrink  silent  into  herself,  as 
one  draws  back  from  a  precipice.  Presently  he  said, 
"  I'm  off  for  good  to-night." 

453 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW- 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  take  me  ?  "  she  cried,  her  voice 
shrill  with  alarm. 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  sad  gentleness  that  made  her 
eyes  fill.  "  It's  a  long  and  hard  journey.  I  must  go 
alone." 

"  I'd  go  anywhere  with  you,"  she  pleaded  wistfully. 
"  Won't  you  let  me — care  for  you  ?  " 

The  hardest  of  the  men  who  play  the  game  of  life 
with  human  pawns  winces  when  one  of  the  pawns  shows 
that  it  is  hurt,  sends  a  human  cry  of  pain  into  his  very 
ears ;  and  Murdock,  though  relentless,  was  anything  but 
hard.  For  the  moment  he  could  not  satisfy  his  con 
science  by  reminding  it  that  while  it  was  true  that  Viola 
was  as  easily  pained  as  a  child  it  was  also  true  that 
she  recovered  and  forgot  as  easily  and  completely.  He 
winced  before  her  pained,  reproachful  eyes,  before  those 
tears  she  was  too  deeply  in  awe  of  him  to  shed.  "  That 
sort  of  thing  is  out  of  my  life  forever,"  said  he,  his  tone 
curt  and  cold,  with  intent  to  pique  and  repel.  "  To  fin 
ish  our  arrangements.  I  took  the  house  for  three  months. 
If  you  wish  to  keep  it  you  can.  I  do  not  insist,  but  I 
should  like  it  if  you  would  stay  on  there  at  least  a  month 
longer — alone.  And  I  hope  you'll  not  go  back  to  Amer 
ica  for  six  months.  Can  you  stand  it  here?  " 

"  I'd  be  glad  to.  If  you  wish,  I'll  agree  not  to  see 
anybody.  And  I'll  keep  my  word." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't  ask  that.  But  please  try  to  stay  on 
until  the  late  fall,  say — and  keep  away  from  English  and 
Americans.  Go  to  Biarritz.  You'll  make  very  attractive 
acquaintances  there.  If  you  once  got  into  the  ways  on 
this  side  you'd  like  it  far  better  than  America.  They're 
more — tolerant  in  their  ideas.  They  don't  take  life  so 
solemnly  and  sourly  as  we  do." 

The  victoria  was  at  the  villa.  With  most  respectful 
454 


"LOVE  IN   TIGHT  SHOES" 

formality  he  assisted  her  to  alight.  "  The  trap  and  the 
horses  are  yours,  of  course,"  said  he,  lifting  his  hat  and 
extending  his  hand. 

"  Good-by,"  she  responded  awkwardly,  making  him 
a  funny  little  bow  reminiscent  of  her  childhood  in  the 
dull  prim  village  from  which  a  "  drummer's  "  tales  of  the 
gorgeous  gayety  of  New  York  had  lured  her.  "  Good- 
by.  Thank  you." 

She  did  not  cry  until  she  was  in  the  house,  with  the 
quaintly  carved  court  door  closed  behind  her  by  her 
butler.  He  watched  with  sympathy  and  alarm.  Madame 
was  very  young  and  pitiful — most  pitiful,  most  forlorn, 
as  she  leaned  upon  the  balustrade  in  tears ;  but —  Evi 
dently  monsieur  had  at  last  definitely  dismissed  her,  prob 
ably  without  funds —  The  situation  was  uncertain,  the 
outlook  cloudy,  and  it  behooved  a  prudent  servant  to 
prepare  for  the  worst.  She  entered  her  boudoir,  sobbing. 
"  Hurry,  Lil ! "  she  cried.  "  Help  me  off  with  my 
things  before  I  spoil  them.  I'm  going  to  have  hyster 
ics."  And,  eased  of  her  finery,  she  proceeded  to  have 
them,  Lilly  standing  by  to  take  care  of  her  when  the 
spasm  should  be  over,  but  meanwhile  holding  aloof. 

"  Now  honey,  you  feels  better,  don't  you?  "  said  she, 
with  motherlike  tenderness  as  soon  as  there  was  sign  of 
cessation. 

"  Cognac,  Lil." 

She  drank  it  straight  down,  turned  the  emptied  crys 
tal  between  her  fingers  and  gazed  at  it  reflectively.  "  Per 
haps  it's  just  as  well.  I  never  did  feel  at  ease  with 
him.  I  never  could.  He  isn't  at  all  my  style." 

"  Nothing  like  good  solid  comfort,  dearie,"  assented 
the  maid.  "  There  ain't  much  in  love  in  tight  shoes, 
'deed  there  ain't." 

"I  wonder  how  much  he'll  leave  for  me.  .  .  .  I'll 
455 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

cable  Jessie  to  run  over.  She  needs  a  vacation.  .  .  „  Did 
that  hat  come  -from  Esther  Mayer?  "  A  huge  sigh. 
"  I'll  cry  myself  to  sleep,  many  a  night." 

"  That's  the  best  time,  honey.  Then  it  don't  do  the 
eyes  no  harm." 

A  long  silence,  with  Lilly  bathing  her  face.  Then : 
"  Still,  I  could  have  loved  him  if  he'd  have  let  me.  I 
wonder  who  it  is?  I  felt  it  the  first  night  I  met  him." 


XXXIV 

SOPHY    STAETS    AFRESH 

BLAGDEN,  reading  the  St.  Christopher  Gazette  at 
his  solitary  breakfast,  frowned  as  his  eyes  caught  upon 
this  paragraph: 

It  is  said  that  the  engagement  of  Mrs.  Murdock  of  the 
Eyrie  and  Mr.  Melville  Blagden  will  soon  be  announced. 

He  laid  aside  the  paper,  ate  his  breakfast  slowly, 
with  long  pauses  to  survey  reflectively,  between  the  wide- 
flung  glass  doors  of  the  breakfast  room,  the  prospect  of 
perfectly  ordered  lawns,  gardens,  hedges,  drives,  and 
woods,  a  prospect  vastly  improved  since  he  had  been  in 
stalled  as  Mrs.  Murdock's  general  manager,  but  still  far 
from  his  exalted  ideal.  Life  was  moving  delightfully  at 
the  Eyrie;  this  paragraph,  publishing  broadcast  what 
had  been  merely  a  local  rumor,  meant  an  interruption,  a 
crisis — a  rehash  throughout  the  country  of  the  Murdock 
scandal,  freshened  with  a  sauce  of  scandal  about  Blag- 
den  and  the  divorced  wife.  At  first  blush  he  had  been 
angry  and  somewhat  alarmed.  But,  as  he  thought  the 
matter  over,  he  decided  that  the  crisis,  which  must  have 
come  sooner  or  later,  could  not  have  found  him  better 
prepared. 

"  I'll  not  be  really  secure  until  we  are  married," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  In  my  devotion  to  her  affairs 
I  mustn't  let  my  own  drift.  That  would  be  bad,  very 
30  457 


OLD    WIVES   FOB   NEW, 

bad."  He  glanced  at  the  servant  with  eyes  that  saw 
surfaces  to  the  minutest  detail  and  noted  a  flaw  as  if 
it  were  capped  with  a  magnifying  glass.  The  servants 
at  the  Eyrie  were  fairly  well  trained  now,  as  well 
trained  as  could  be  expected  of  even  an  imported 
menial  class  out  West,  where  the  environment  was  all 
against  the  menial  spirit.  At  Blagden's  glance  the 
servant,  standing  at  respectful  attention,  removed  his 
plate,  brought  an  ash  tray,  a  box  of  cigarettes  and 
a  spirit  lamp.  "  You  forgot  to  brush  away  the  crumbs, 
James,"  said  Blagden. 

The  servant  removed  the  things  he  had  just  set 
down,  cleaned  the  space  before  Blagden,  returned  the 
cigarettes,  lamp  and  tray,  and  was  about  to  pour  the 
coffee.  "  You  have  forgotten  your  cuffs — again," 
said  Blagden.  James  reddened,  retired  to  the  pantry, 
soon  reappeared  with  cuffs  showing  at  the  ends  of  his 
coat  sleeves.  "  That's  better,"  approved  the  manager 
of  the  Eyrie.  And  the  coffee  was  poured. 

Blagden  was  by  nature  and  by  careful  education 
an  expert  in  the  art  of  living  fashionably.  Perhaps  in 
other  surroundings  his  ability  at  organization  and 
leadership  might  have  found  wider  employment — 
though  it  by  no  means  follows  that  a  man  has  genius 
for  the  large  because  he  shows  genius  for  the  little. 
Large  affairs  did  not  interest  him;  fashionable  people, 
the  fashionable  mode  of  life,  seemed  to  him  the  highest 
expression  of  mundane  existence.  In  matters  of  food 
and  wine  and  dress,  of  household  economy,  luxury  and 
aesthetics,  he  was  an  authority.  The  Eyrie  was  his  first 
opportunity  to  give  free  range  to  this  genius  of  his; 
and,  though  he  had  been  in  charge  but  a  few  months 
and  had  had  to  combat  the  most  disheartening  obsta 
cles,  chiefly  arising  from  the  indifference  and  contempt 

458 


SOPHY   STARTS   AFRESH 

in  which  such  refinements  of  civilized  cultured  life  were 
held  so  far  from  Europe  and  direct  European  influ 
ence,  he  had  achieved  results  of  which  he  was  not 
ashamed. 

"  I've  been  so  absorbed  in  making  this  place  fit  for 
a  gentleman  to  live  in,"  thought  he,  "  that  I've  lost 
sight  of  the  main  point." 

Just  there  'his  face  lighted  up  with  an  expression  of 
tenderness  and  pride.  In  the  doorway  was  Sophy, 
habited  for  a  ride — Sophy,  the  real  monument  to  this 
rare  genius  of  his,  genius  of  a  species  until  recently  not 
highly  esteemed.  Whenever  he  looked  at  her,  he 
swelled  with  the  creator's  pride.  His  labor  of  trans 
forming  her,  like  his  labor  of  transforming  the  Eyrie, 
was  by  no  means  finished ;  but  so  rapidly  and  so  far  had 
it  advanced  that  one  could  already  see  the  ultimate 
woman,  as  the  statue  that  is  to  be  appears  in  the  mar 
ble  soon  after  the  sculptor  has  begun  work.  Youth's 
springtime  he  could  not  conjure  back  for  Sophy;  she 
had  neglected  herself  too  long  for  that.  But  by  in 
ducing  her  to  walk  and  to  ride,  to  diet,  to  keep  him 
company  in  systematic  regular  habits,  and  to  interest 
herself  in  his  work  as  manager  and  major-domo  and 
installer  of  fashion — work  easily  within  her  range — 
by  rousing  her  desire  to  please  him  and  by  keeping  it 
stimulated — in  a  word,  by  giving  her  love  and  intelli 
gent  loving  interest  he  had  lifted  her  above  the  life 
of  mere  eating  and  sleeping,  had  re-created  her  into  a 
handsome,  well-proportioned  woman  in  youth's  sum 
mer,  with  clear  eyes  and  skin,  with  solid  and  shapely 
flesh,  with  a  carriage  that  showed  pride  in  her  ap 
pearance,  and  self-respect.  He  had  made  of  her  an 
object  lesson  in  the  might  of  regularity  and  persist 
ence  when  inspired  by  Purpose. 

459 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  Good  morning ! "  cried  she,  as  he  rose.  "  The 
horses  are  waiting." 

"  I'm  ready,"  said  he.  Then  his  glance  fell  upon 
the  Gazette,  and  his  face  clouded. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked,  for  she  watched  his  fea 
tures  nowadays  as  a  farmer  the  sky.  "  Bad  news !  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  when  we  get  under  way."  And  as  the 
horses  were  walking  side  by  side  along  the  drive  toward 
the  hill  road,  he  said,  "  The  Gazette  publishes  our  en 
gagement." 

"  Isn't  that  outrageous !  What  business  is  it  of 
theirs?" 

"  That  means,"  pursued  he,  "  columns  in  the  Chi 
cago  papers — in  all  the  papers.  The  whole  scandal 
warmed  over — and — doubtless  some  nasty  insinuations 
about  you  and  me." 

"  /  don't  care." 

"  Yes,  you  do,"  replied  he.  "  And  so  do  I.  Sophy, 
we  must  be  married  at  once." 

The  horses  walked  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  either 
spoke  again.  He  held  his  gaze  sternly  ahead;  she 
glanced  at  him  anxiously  from  time  to  time.  "  You 
mustn't  ask  that,"  she  said  at  last.  "  I  couldn't  do  it 
yet.  Think  how  people  would  talk." 

"  True,"  observed  he,  coldly.  "  So,  I'm  going 
away.  And  I'll  not  return  until  you're  ready  to 
marry." 

"  Are  you  angry  with  me,  Melville  ?  " 

"  With  myself.  I  oughtn't  have  stayed  on  here. 
No  wonder  people  talk.  I  should  have  had  more  con 
sideration  for  you." 

"  You  stayed  because  I  wanted  you,  because  I 
needed  you.  I  simply  couldn't  have  got  along  without 
you.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  how  much  you've  done 

460 


SOPHY   STARTS   AFRESH 

for  me."  She  looked  at  Blagden  with  a  touching  and 
thrilling  tenderness  in  her  lovely  eyes.  "  You've  given 
me  something  to  live  for,  and  have  taught  me  how  to 
live.  .  .  .  Melville,  you  won't  go  away  ?  " 

"  I  must.  God  knows,  I'm  not  looking  forward  to 
it  with  pleasure.  But  there's  no  alternative.  I  am 
causing  people  to  talk  about  you." 

"  I  tell  you,  I  don't  care.     I  do  as  I  please." 

"  You  are  going  to  be  my  wife.  I  have  plans  for 
you — for  our  future  here  and  in  the  East,  and  we 
mustn't  do  anything  that  would  interfere." 

She  saw  that  his  will  was  fixed.  She  was  con 
sciously  and  proudly  dependent  upon  him  as  plant 
upon  sun.  She  was  not  only  eager  to  please;  she 
feared  to  offend.  "  I  don't  see  how  we  could  marry — 
anyways  soon,"  ventured  she  hesitatingly. 

"Why  not?" 

"When?" 

"  To-day — this  afternoon — no,  right  away — and 
leave  for  a  trip  to-night." 

"  But  the  scandal " 

"  We're  in  for  it,  anyhow.  Why  not  have  it  all  over 
with?  Yes,  let's  marry  this  morning.  Don't  you  see 
that's  the  sensible  thing  to  do?  The  engagement  has 
been  suspected  by  everybody  here  for  a  month.  It  has 
been  announced  now.  Isn't  it  clear,  Sophy,  that  the 
sooner  it's  all  over  the  better?  Besides — "  He  gave  her 
a  long,  eager  look,  a  meaning  smile  upon  his  lips,  the 
seriousness  of  the  lover  in  his  eyes. 

She  colored.  "  It  does  seem  sensible,"  she  mur 
mured. 

Blagden's  thus  easy  victory,  like  all  his  victories  with 
her,  took  him  by  surprise.  His  love  and  awe  of  her 
and  of  her  wealth  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  appreci- 

461 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW 

ate  how  completely  under  his  control  she  was.  Also, 
his  nature  had  that  streak  of  pessimism  so  necessary  to 
success ;  he  always  took  the  gloomy  view,  saw  the  reasons 
why  he  probably  would  not  get  what  he  wanted  long 
before  he  saw  the  brighter  prospects.  But  his  surprise 
did  not  paralyze  action.  He  laid  his  hand  caressingly 
upon  her  arm.  "  Sophy  " — he  urged  tenderly.  And  his 
eyes  said  the  rest. 

Her  expression  was  assent. 

He  lifted  his  horse  into  a  canter,  hers  keeping  pace. 
In  the  outskirts  of  the  eastern  end  of  Saint  X  there  was 
a  Baptist  Church,  the  parsonage  adjoining.  The  par 
son's  wife  called  him  in  from  the  corn  field ;  and,  without 
his  changing  his  clothes,  or  even  putting  on  a  coat,  the 
marriage  was  solemnized — a  high-stepping  hen  led  her 
twittering,  huddling  brood  in  at  the  open  front  door, 
through  the  dingy  little  parlor  and  out  at  the  back  door, 
just  as  he  read  the  last  lines  of  the  service.  He  closed 
the  book,  put  his  spectacles  in  his  vest  pocket,  said  with 
out  the  smallest  intent  of  humor,  "  Well,  Mrs.  Blagden, 
better  luck  this  time." 

Sophy  suddenly  felt  hysterically  gay.  She  and 
Blagden  looked  at  each  other,  laughed  outright.  And 
she,  shaking  hands  with  the  preacher,  replied,  eyes  danc 
ing,  and  the  look  of  a  girl  in  them :  "  Thank  you,  Mr. 
Paget,  and  I  think  your  wish'll  come  true." 

"  Very  likely,  ma'am,"  replied  Paget.  "  You're  old 
enough  to  know  what  you're  about  this  time.  Then,  too, 
you've  had  experience.  I  often  tell  my  wife  no  woman  is 
fit  to  be  a  wife  till  she's  been  married  at  least  once." 

"  How  about  the  man  ?  "  inquired  Blagden. 

"  Oh,  he  don't  count.  Marrying  is  a  woman's  busi 
ness." 

As  they  rode  away,  the  parson  and  his  wife  and  his 
462 


SOPHY   STARTS   AFRESH 

angular  old-maid  sister  in  faded  pink  calico  waving 
from  the  doorway,  Blagden' s  eyes  were  dim.  "  If  any 
one  had  asked  me  about  it  beforehand,"  said  he  in  a  very 
uncertain  voice,  "  I'd  have  said  a  wedding  in  such  cir 
cumstances  would  be  a  farce.  But  I  feel  now  that — 
Sophy,  it  was  just  you  and  I,  wasn't  it — with  no  pre 
tense  coming  between  us — just  you  and  I,  pledging  our 
selves  to  each  other." 

The  horses  drew  together  until  their  flanks  touched. 
Blagden  bent  toward  his  wife,  kissed  her  passionately. 
"  I  shall  do  my  best  to  make  you  happy,"  he  said.  "  My 
best,  so  help  me  God !  " 

When  they  straightened  in  the  saddle  again,  their 
cheeks  were  wet  with  each  other's  tears.  And  each  felt 
that  those  tears  had  washed  the  past  clean,  that  at  last 
they  were  to  have  the  chance  to  be  and  to  do  what  God 
had  intended. 

Joe  and  Norma  happened  to  come  out  to  lunch  that 
day ;  after  lunch,  while  the  two  men  were  in  the  billiard 
room,  Sophy  told  her  daughter  the  news.  "  I  don't 
think,"  began  she,  "  you'll  be  much  surprised  to  hear 
Mr.  Blagden  and  I  got  married  this  morning." 

"  No,"  replied  Norma,  in  a  tone  of  quiet  sincerity. 
"  I've  been  expecting  it.  ...  I'm  glad."  And  she  em 
braced  her  mother  with  enthusiasm. 

"  I  looked  at  it  from  all  sides,"  continued  Sophy,  to 
impress  her  daughter  that  the  affair  was  more  practical 
than  romantic.  "  It  seemed  the  best  thing  to  do." 

"  Charley  and  I  talked  it  over  before  he  went  East," 
said  Norma,  "  and  we  came  to  the  same  conclusion." 

"  Your  father  and  I,"  continued  Sophy,  encouraged 
to  full  confidence,  "  never  were  suited  to  each  other.  We 
were  mighty  fond  of  each  other  for  a  while;  I  never 


OLD   WIVES   TOR   NEW 

could  be  fond  of  anybody  else  in  just  the  same  way. 
But  it  was  the  kind  that  flares  up  and  then  winks  out. 
I  guess  it  was  as  much  my  fault  as  his.  I  didn't  under 
stand  him  at  all,  and  we  were  both  too  young  to  look  at 
things  seriously  before  we'd  got  into  the  habit  of  not 
caring  at  all  for  each  other.  I  was  bitter  against  him 
until  this  morning.  But,  as  Melville  and  I  were  riding 
home  after  the  ceremony,  it  came  over  me  what  a  great 
favor  Murdock  had  done  me — without  intending  it.  If 
I  hadn't  have  met  Melville  I  suppose  I'd  never  have 
realized  it." 

"  I've  never  seen  such  a  change,  mother.  You're  not 
the  same  person — not  at  all." 

"  I'm  more  like  what  I  used  to  be,  before  I  fell  into 
the  way  of  not  caring  what  happened.  Everybody's  got 
to  have  somebody  to  keep  them  up  to  the  mark,  and  I 
had  nobody.  But  that's  all  over  and  done  now."  Sophy 
gave  a  sigh  of  content. 

"  Blagden  is  a  very  nice  fellow,"  said  Norma.  "  He 
has  a  good  character  and  a  good  heart.  He's  the  sort 
of  man  a  woman  can  trust  to  be  kind  to  her  if  she  gives 
him  half  a  chance." 

"  I  was  a  little  afraid  you  and  Charley  would  turn 
against  him." 

"  We  want  you  to  be  happy.  And  we  believe  he'll 
try  to  make  you  happy.  .  .  .  He  hasn't  much  money 
of  his  own,  has  he?  " 

Sophy  colored  furiously.  "  What's  that  got  to  do 
with  it?  "  she  demanded,  ready  to  bristle. 

"  Now,  please,  mother !  Do  wait  till  I  finish  before 
you  get  angry.  I  was  simply  going  to  ask  you  if  you 
didn't  think  he  ought  to  be  made  independent.  It  seems 
to  me  it  cuts  into  a  man's  self-respect  to  have  to  come 
to  a  woman  for  money,  and  I've  noticed  women  are  worse 

464 


SOPHY  STARTS  AFRESH 

about  those  things  than  men.  They  seem  to  enj  oy  mak 
ing  a  man  come  to  them,  even  for  pocket  money.  If  I 
were  a  poor  man  I'd  rather  beg  in  the  streets  than  marry 
the  average  rich  woman." 

Sophy  looked  embarrassed.  "  I'd  thought  of  that," 
said  she,  "  and  I'd  about  made  up  my  mind  to  do  some 
thing  of  the  kind.  But — .  .  .  There's  another  side,  isn't 
there?  " 

"  Well?  "  encouraged  her  daughter. 

"  We're  about  of  an  age,  but —  A  woman,  espe 
cially  if  she's  had  experience,  can't  help  thinking  of  these 
things.  You  see,  being  a  woman  and  he  a  man,  I'll  get 
old  quite  a  while  before  he  does  probably.  I  don't  want 
to  lose  him.  If  he  has  plenty  of  money  maybe  just 
when  I  most  need  him  he'll  be — neglecting  me." 

"  That's  true,"  admitted  Norma,  admiring  the  vein 
of  shrewdness  under  her  mother's  simplicity.  "  But  a 
woman's  got  to  take  her  chance  it  seems  to  me.  He  cares 
for  you  now.  If  he  began  to  feel  dependent  on  you  in 
a  petty,  sordid  way  he'd  soon  hate  you.  And — wouldn't 
you  rather  lose  a  man  altogether  than  have  him  playing 
the  hypocrite?  Besides,  it  seems  to  me,  if  one  acts 
meanly,  does  mean  things  from  mean  motives,  it  destroys 
one's  own  power  of  enjoyment.  You'd  soon  be  miserable 
— suspecting  him  of  hypocrisy  and  despising  him,  even 
though  you  might  cling  to  him  because  there  wasn't  any 
one  else  convenient." 

"  Then  you'd  advise  me  to  give  him  part  of  what 
I've  got — outright?  " 

"  Outright,"  was  Norma's  emphatic  answer.  "  Don't 
throw  away  your  best  chance  of  happiness,  mother. 
Don't  be  halfway  generous.  That's  worse  than  out  and 
out  meanness  because  it's  weak  and  cowardly  as  well  as 
mean." 

460 


OLD   WIVES   FOE   NEW 

Sophy  reflected.  "  I  guess  you're  right,"  she  finally 
said.  For  the  first  time  in  their  lives  she  looked  at  her 
daughter  as  if  she  were  both  daughter  and  friend.  "  You 
don't  think  I'm  mean  for  harboring  such  ideas  ?  " 

"  Indeed  not !  "  replied  Norma  warmly.  "  That's 
human  nature.  And  it's  only  right  that  in  such  an  im 
portant  matter  one  should  look  at  all  sides — especially 
at  the  under  side — for  that's  the  foundation." 

"  I  got  to  thinking  about  how  near  of  an  age  we 
were,  and  about  how  much  it  meant  to  me  to — to  have 
him."  Sophy's  voice  was  trembling.  "  And  it  fright 
ened  me." 

Norma  stood  behind  her  mother  and  kissed  her. 
"  Just  do  what  your  generous  heart  prompts  you  to  do, 
dear,"  she  said.  "  Then — no  matter  what  comes  you  may 
be  certain  it's  better  than  what  would  have  come  if  you'd 
been  small  or  sordid.  Tempt  him  to  be  honorable,  not 
dishonorable." 

"  I  will,"  declared  Sophy.  "  I'll  do  it  right  away. 
And  now  I've  made  up  my  mind  I  can't  understand  how 
I  could  ever  have  thought  of  anything  else." 

When  Joe  and  Blagden  came  in,  Norma  said  to 
Blagden,  "  Mother  has  been  telling  me."  She  put  out 
both  her  hands  with  a  friendly  smile.  "  I  am  so  glad — 
glad  for  both  of  you." 

"  What's  this?  "  cried  Joe.     "  An  engagement?  " 

"Better  than  that,"  answered  Norma.  "They 
slipped  away  quietly  this  morning  and  were  married. 
Aren't  you  going  to  kiss  me,  Mr.  Blagden?  " 

Blagden  kissed  her.  His  face  was  fiery  and  his  hands 
trembled.  "  Thank  you,  Norma,  thank  you,"  was  all 
he  ventured  to  try  to  utter. 

When  she  and  Joe  were  on  the  way  home,  Joe  said : 
"  Well !  You  certainly  did  carry  that  off  beautifully. 

466 


SOPHY   STARTS   AFRESH 

I  shouldn't  have  thought  there  was  so  much  diplomacy 
in  you." 

"  Diplomacy  ?  "  inquired  Norma,  looking  at  him  in 
frank  surprise. 

"  Making  the  best  of  it,"  explained  Joe. 

"  But  you're  mistaken,"  protested  Norma. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  child.  You  needn't  pretend  with 
me." 

The  expression  of  Norma's  face — astonishment,  then 
pain,  then  an  effort  to  hide  her  pain — made  him  scarlet 
with  confusion  and  shame.  "  I  take  that  back,"  he  said 
humbly.  "  I  judged  you  by — by  myself." 

Norma  forgot  this  incident — but  Joe  never  did.  It 
was  with  him  the  beginning  of  a  new  belief  in  his  wife, 
and  through  it,  of  a  new  view  of  and  belief  in  human 
nature.  And  when  a  man  discards  the  shallow  cynicism 
of  worldliness  and  begins  to  believe  in  his  fellow-beings, 
it  chiefly  means  that  he  has  begun  himself  to  be  worthy 
of  confidence. 


XXXV 


VIOLA,  a  bewitching  color  scheme  of  violet  shades, 
stepped  from  her  victoria  before  Rumplemayer's  for 
"  just  one  "  of  those  deadly,  delicious  babas  to  find  her 
self  directly  in  the  path  of  Juliet  Raeburn  and  her  sister 
Emma  walking  in  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  "  Why,  Miss  Rae 
burn  ! "  exclaimed  she  breathlessly.  "  How  do  you 
do?" 

The  elder  Miss  Raeburn  gave  Viola  one  sweeping, 
searching,  stripping  glance,  frowned,  compressed  her 
prim  lips,  marched  straight  on.  But  Juliet  put  out  her 
hand  with  a  friendly  smile  and  a  "  How  are  you,  Viola? 
How  well  you're  looking !  " 

But  that  rebuke  from  militant  and  celibate  respecta 
bility  had  brought  Viola  up  standing.  Her  face  burned 
scarlet.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  muttered,  eyes  down 
and  lips  trembling.  "  I  forgot.  I  was  just — just  glad 
to  see  some  one  from  home." 

She  moved  to  pass,  but  Juliet,  who  had  felt  rather 
than  seen  her  sister's  glance,  detained  her.  "  You 
look  as  if  you  belonged  here,"  said  she,  pressing 
Viola's  reluctant  hand.  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you  are 
happy." 

"  Indeed  I'm  not !  "  protested  Viola.  "  I'm  horribly 
lonesome.  How  I  wish  I  was  back  in  New  York !  But 
I've  got  to  stay  on  for  two  months  longer,  and  I've  got 

468 


THE    WILD   BIRD'S   CAGE   OPEN 

to  keep  away  from  everybody."  In  her  excitement  she 
was  unable  to  stop  herself.  "  It's  all  very  mysterious, 
isn't  it?  But  then  he's  such  a  strange  man.  Oh,  he's 
been  generous  to  me.  But — what  am  I  saying?  I'm  so 
worried  about  him.  I — I — " 

Juliet's  eyelids  fluttered.     "  Is  he  ill?  " 

"  No  —  at  least,  I  don't  know."  Impulsively : 
"  Won't  you  let  me  come  to  see  you  ?  I'm  dying  to  speak 
to  somebody  about  it.  I'll  come  quite  quietly — no  one 
shall  know.  Do  let  me  come  to-morrow  morning,  Miss 
Raeburn.  I  mustn't  stand  here  talking  to  you.  Some 
one  might  see." 

A  look  of  pain  came  into  Juliet's  eyes.  It  seemed  to 
her  melancholy  enough  that  a  woman  should  be  thus 
a  pariah,  when  men,  and  women,  far  worse  because  hypo 
critical,  were  accepted,  were  respected ;  but  the  crowning 
tragedy  was  that  Viola  could  thus  recognize  her  po 
sition,  yet  live  on  and  dress  herself  deliberately  to  attract 
attention.  "  Certainly,"  Juliet  said.  "  Come  to-morrow 
at  twelve.  You  and  I  will  lunch  together  in  my  apart 
ment." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,"  cried  the  girl,  her  eyes 
swimming.  "  You  were  going  in  Rumplemayer's.  Yes, 
I'm  sure  you  were.  I'll  go  somewhere  else."  And  she 
darted  to  the  curb  and  signaled  her  coachman. 

Juliet,  rejoining  her  sister,  said  in  response  to  a 
severe  look :  "  She  used  to  work  with  us.  Such  a  sweet 
girl,  so  good-natured.  I  am  fond  of  her." 

"  You  might  have  more  regard  for  me  than  to  notice 
her  in  the  public  street." 

"  I'm  sorry  you  feel  doubtful  about  your  reputa 
tion." 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  my  reputation,"  retorted 
Emma. 

469 


OLD    WIVES   FOE   NEW 

"  Oh — of  mine?  "  Juliet  elevated  her  eyebrows. 
"  What  people  think  of  me  never  did  interest  me.  That 
sort  of  reputation  isn't  a  business  asset  with  a  woman 
in  my  line,  any  more  than  it  is  with  a  man  in  any 
line.  So  I  haven't  even  business  reasons  for  keeping  up 
appearances." 

"  But  respectable  people " 

"  Dear,  dear  Emma,"  cried  Juliet,  "  what  have  L 
to  do  with  respectable  people?  I'm  not  respectable. 
Being  independent  I  do  as  I  please." 

"  I  observe  you  please  to  do  respectably." 

"  An  accident,  not  a  virtue,"  was  Juliet's  reply,  withi 
a  look  deliberately  intended  to  jar  upon  her  sister's  sensi 
bilities — a  look  like  a  challenge  from  a  harem  lattice. 
"  As  for  Viola  Hastings " 

"Was  that  Viola  Hastings?"  Emma  Raeburn 
stopped  short  in  the  street,  transfixed  with  horror.  "  Vi 
ola  Hastings!  The  woman  that  terrible  Murdock  is 
flaunting  in  everybody's  face.  I  read  about  it.  It  was 
most  scandalous.  I  think  every  respect —  every  virtuous 
woman  should  have  rallied  to  the  support  of  his  poor, 
unfortunate  wife." 

"  The  Herald  this  morning  says  she's  about  to 
marry  a  Mr.  Blagden  who  was  Mr.  Murdock's  private 
secretary." 

"  Naturally,  she  wished  to  get  rid  of  his  name  as 
quickly  as  possible.  ...  To  his  former  secretary,  you 
say?  .  .  .  Well,  at  least  she's  having  the  decency  to 
marry." 

Juliet  laughed  scornfully.  For  the  past  few  minutes 
her  face  had  had  more  than  its  wonted  pallor  of  the  olive 
skin.  "  To  marry !  To  marry !  And  that  makes  every 
thing  all  right.  If  Viola  had  played  her  cards  more 
craftily,  had  married  one  of  her  men  for  his  money,  had 

470 


THE    WILD   BIRD'S   CAGE   OPEN 

hired  herself  permanently  to  the  same  appetite,  it  would 
have  been  most  respectable,  most  proper." 

"Juliet!  How  can  you,  even  in  jest  and  to  tease 
me,  defend  such  creatures  !  " 

"  Defend  ?  I  ?  I'm  not  defending  her,  but  neither 
am  I  attacking  her.  She's  just  the  average  woman, 
selling  herself  because  she's  too  lazy  to  work.  She  has 
a  better  excuse  than  most  of  them  because  her  beauty 
brought  temptations  too  strong  for  a  far  stronger  char 
acter  than  God  saw  fit  to  give  her." 

"  I  wish  you  would  keep  your  views  to  yourself !  " 

"  I  do,  except  when  they  are  demanded,"  Juliet  an 
swered.  Then  contritely :  "  Don't  mind  me,  Emmy — 
dear.  I'm  all  upset.  My  nerves  seem  suddenly  to  have 
gone  to  pieces." 

Usually  she  was  patient  with  Emma's  foibles ;  but, 
in  the  mood  into  which  Viola's  mysterious  and  disquiet 
ing  hints  about  Murdock  had  precipitated  her,  she  could 
not  listen  in  her  wonted  good-natured  silence.  It  rasped 
upon  her,  this  rancour  of  the  homely  old  maid  against 
the  woman  who  attracted  more  than  one  man  when 
there  were  obviously  and  cruelly  not  enough  men  to  go 
round;  this  fury  against  the  woman  who  gave  herself 
for  less  than  the  standard  market  price,  her  keep  for 
life.  Virtue  was  the  one  string  to  Emma's  harp.  She 
had  always  twanged  on  it;  latterly  this  twanging  had 
become  a  mania.  As  with  all  celibates,  the  cardinal 
temptation,  the  cardinal  sin,  was  that  joy  of  life  of  which 
she  was  deprived.  Normal  people  have  many  interests, 
the  celibate  but  one;  so  it  dogs  his — or  her — days  and 
debauches  his  or  her  nights. 

Emma  could  not  take  the  hint  and  drop  the  danger 
ous  subject.  She  liked  to  talk  it  because  her  mind  was 
always  revolving  it ;  she  had  satisfactory  self -excuse  for 

471 


'OLD  WIVES  FOB   NEW 

talking  it  in  her  duty  to  her  young  sister,  a  genius 
and  therefore  irresponsible.  Juliet  led  the  most  in 
offensive  of  lives,  a  life  of  monotonous  regularity,  like 
inmate  of  convent  or  penitentiary,  or  one  of  the  myriad 
wage  slaves  who,  unconscious  of  their  slavery,  live  by 
the  clocks  and  whistles  of  their  masters.  This  did  not 
convince  Emma.  She  could  not  quiet  the  fears  aroused 
by  Juliet's  ardent,  adventurous  eyes,  by  the  defiant  curve 
of  her  mouth,  by  the  free  movements  of  her  slender, 
supple  body.  No  opportunity  must  be  missed  for  min 
istering  to  Juliet,  for  trying  to  trim  her  nearer  the 
social  pattern  for  the  proper,  respectable  human  being. 
Accordingly,  after  a  brief  silence,  Emma  resumed  her 
nagging.  "  To  think,"  said  she,  "  that  you  spoke 
friendlily  to  the  woman  who  seduced  Murdock  from  his 
duty."  * 

Juliet's  eyes  flashed.  "  He  was  driven,  not  seduced," 
she  retorted. 

"  Driven ! " 

"  By  his  wife." 

"Juliet!" 

"  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about,  Emma,"  cried 
Juliet,  angered  the  more  by  her  sister's  scandalized  tone. 
"  His  wife  didn't  care  enough  about  him  to  try  to  hold 
him,  didn't  even  care  enough  about  herself  to  keep  from 
becoming  a  fat  frump.  No,  I  shouldn't  say  that.  I've 
no  right  to  judge  her.  I  believe  she's  a  good  woman,  as 
women  go.  She's  simply  one  more  victim  of  the  curse 
of  woman's  traditional  training." 

"  That  is,"  Emma  said  in  high  dudgeon,  "  she  de 
voted  herself  to  her  home  and  her  children." 

"  Fudge !  Fudge !  "  cried  Juliet  impatiently.  "  Don't 
I  work  harder  than  any  woman  who  keeps  house,  even 
without  servants?  Yet  I'm  not  letting  myself  go  to 

472 


THE    WILD   BIRD'S   CAGE   OPEN 

pieces,  mentally  and  physically.  Don't  you  manage  a 
house — all  our  personal  affairs,  and  try  to  manage  me  ? 
Yet  you  contrive  to  be  intelligent  and  well  dressed  and 
orderly.  As  for  children,  please  don't  repeat  to  me  the 
feminine  cant  about  the  agony  of  having  them  and  the 
wear  and  tear  of  bringing  them  up;  there  are  no  men 
present,  so  we  can  be  quite  honest.  We  know  that  the 
woman  who  goes  about  bearing  and  training  children 
intelligently  has  no  great  amount  of  trouble." 

"  You  talk  like  a  traitor  to  your  own  sex.  If  women 
would  stand  together " 

"  The  men  are  on  speaking  terms  with  Viola,"  was 
Juliet's  disconcerting  interruption.  "  Isn't  it  the  women 
that  trample  her?  And  you  know  very  well,  Emma, 
you'd  merely  shake  your  head  reprovingly  at  a  man 
of  her  sort  and  say,  '  Naughty,  naughty,'  without  really 
meaning  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  notice  Murdock  any  more  than  if  he 
were  the  dirt  under  my  feet,"  cried  Emma,  all  aquiver 
with  fury.  "  And  I  know  you  wouldn't  either.  At  heart 
you  are  a  good  woman." 

Juliet  could  not  repress  the  longing  that  surged  up 
within  her — the  longing  to  ease  her  heart  of  its  secret 
and  to  confound  her  sister.  "  At  heart,  I  am — just  a 
woman,"  she  said,  and  there  was  in  her  calm  an  energy 
that  terrified  Emma.  "Notice  him?  Why,  I  love 
him !  " 

Again  Emma  stopped  short  on  the  crowded  sidewalk 
and  stared  at  her  beautiful  sister,  heedless  of  the  amused 
spectators.  "  You  don't  even  know  the  man !  " 

"  Know  him?  "     Juliet  laughed  strangely.     "  Then 

no  human  being  ever  knew  another.    And  in  spite  of  the 

way  he  has  acted  with  Viola,  I  love  him,  I'd  serve  him 

like  a  dog  its  master.     It's  shameful  that  I  have  no 

•31  473 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 


pride.  I  ought  to  despise  him.  Instead,  I  only  love 
him  the  more,  and  despise  myself — for  being  so  weak, 
so  womanish,  that  in  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  don't 
blame  him.  A  woman  feels  that  she  belongs  to  the  man 
she  loves,  but  she  doesn't  feel  that  he  belongs  to  her — 
though  she'd  like  to." 

Emma,  looking  as  if  she  were  about  to  faint,  signaled 
a  cab.  "  Au  Bois,"  she  said  or,  rather,  gasped,  to  the 
driver  as  they  seated  themselves.  At  last — at  last !  She 
had  always  felt  it  in  her  bones  that  Juliet  would  sooner 
or  later  listen  to  the  whisperings  of  the  flibbertigibbet, 
the  same  imp  that  had  teased  her  in  her  own  youth  to 
revolt  from  the  docile,  rooted  fate  of  our  cousins  of  the 
vegetable  kingdom.  No  real  temptation  from  without 
reenforcing  those  bad,  sweet  plaguings,  she  had  tri 
umphed  over  them ;  and  the  stronger  the  nature  the  more 
firmly  it  conforms,  once  it  has  been  shaped  to  the  mold 
and  cooled  there.  But  Juliet—  At  last— at  last !  The 
wild  bird's  cage  was  open!  She  did  not  feel  equal  to 
speech  until  they  had  passed  the  Arch.  Then  she  said : 

"  And  I  have  seen  nothing  of  this — suspected  noth- 
ing!" 

"  Why  should  you?  "  replied  Juliet  wearily.  "  Do 
you  suppose  I've  been  wrestling  with  the  world  since  I 
was  seventeen,  without  learning  to  hide  my  heart  and 
smooth  my  front,  and  smile?  What  if  everything  did 
go  smash  with  me?  Still,  life  had  to  be  lived.  Thank 
God,  I  had  my  work  to  turn  to!  Ladies  and  gentle 
men,  with  nothing  to  do  but  think  about  their  souls, 
can  afford  the  luxuries  of  broken  lives  and  despairs  and 
such  interesting  tragic  playthings.  But  not  we  working 
people." 

"  He  is  a  greater  scoundrel  than  I  thought !  "  ex 
claimed  Emma.  "  He  has  betrayed  two  good  women." 

474 


THE  WILD  BIRD'S  CAGE  OPEN 

Juliet  glanced  inquiringly  at  her  sister;  as  the  full 
ness  of  Emma's  inconsistency  came  over  her  she  laughed. 

"  And  you  can  laugh !  "  cried  Emma  tragically. 

"  Why  not  ?  A  heartache  doesn't  suspend  the  sense 
of  humor.  And  your  morals  are  very  funny,  Emmy." 

"  Evidently  you  care  nothing  for  him.  You  were 
simply  vexing  me." 

"  As  you  please.    Let's  talk  no  more  about  it." 

"  I  should  think  not!  It's  no  fit  subject  for  respec 
table  women.  Such  low  people " 

"  No  more.  Please — no  more,"  said  Juliet.  "  If  I 
keep  on  thinking  about  it  I  shall  go  quite  mad." 

Emma  was  silenced  by  the  expression  of  her  eyes  and 
mouth.  Emma's  heart  swelled  with  sympathy;  but  she 
did  not  venture  to  show  it.  "  She'd  think  I  was  pitying 
her,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Besides,  sympathy  would  en 
courage  her." 


XXXVI 

VIOLA    GIVES    THE    CLEW 

WHEN  Viola  entered  the  Raeburn  sisters'  apart 
ment  at  noon  the  next  day,  she  was  dressed  quietly,  for 
Viola — a  toque,  a  dark-blue  walking  dress,  a  silver-fox 
collar  and  muff,  no  jewels  but  a  beauty  box,  a  chain  of 
amethysts  and  two  marquise  rings,  one  on  either  hand. 
Juliet  received  her  with  burning  cheeks  and  lowered  eyes. 
"  Really,  no  one  knows,"  Viola  hastened  to  explain,  know 
ing  nothing  that  could  enlighten  her  as  to  the  true 
reason.  "  Really,  Miss  Raeburn,  I'm  only  going  to 
bother  you  a  few  minutes.  I  understand." 

"  Viola,"  said  Juliet,  "  you  mustn't  say  those  things 
to  me." 

"  Oh,  but  I  saw  how  you  felt.  And  I  don't  blame 
you.  I  know  my  class."  She  tossed  her  head  and  tried 
to  look  as  unconcerned  before  Juliet  as  she  would  before 
anyone  else.  "  It's  quite  good  enough  for  me.  It  takes 
all  kinds  to  make  a  world." 

"  You  misunderstood,"  said  Juliet  earnestly.  "  I 
can't  tell  you  why,  but  I  ought  to  be  apologizing  to 
you.  And  you  must  not  talk  to  me  about — Mr.  Mur- 
dock." 

Viola  was  amazed.  "  How  did  you  know  that?  Do 
you  know  him?  Have  you  seen  him?  Did  he  tell  you 
he  warned  me,  before  he  went  away,  that  I  mustn't  see 
any  Americans  or  English?" 

476 


VIOLA    GIVES   THE   CLEW 

"  No,  I  haven't  seen  him.  But  you  mustn't  talk 
about  him." 

"  Why,  that's  what  I  came  for !  I  can't  sleep  or  eat 
or  anything  for  fretting  about  him."  She  began  to  cry. 
Her  grief  and  her  account  of  her  sufferings  would  have 
been  more  impressive  had  she  not  been  obviously  in  that 
perfect  physical  condition  which  results  only  from  sound 
sleep  and  a  good  appetite. 

"  He  will  probably  come  back,  when  he  can,"  said 
Juliet.  "  He  wouldn't  have  taken  you  from  America 
with  him  if  he  hadn't  wanted  you." 

"  Wanted  me !  Why,  he  hasn't  even  kissed  me  but 
once.  That  was  the  first  day — the  day  I  met  him  at 
the  station.  I  got  a  telegram  from  him.  I  went  there, 
and  he  made  a  scene  before  everybody.  And  I  thought 
things  were  going  to  be  with  him  and  me  as  they  were 
before " 

Juliet  checked  her  with  a  sharp :  "  You  mustn't, 
Viola.  I  don't  wish  to  hear.  I  don't  wish  to  know." 

Viola  was  puzzled  and  amused.  "  Why,  everybody 
knows,"  cried  she.  "  So  what's  the  difference?  .  .  . 
Anyhow,  he  took  me  away  from  the  station  and  treated 
me —  You'd  have  thought  I  was  the  wife  he  was  getting 
a  divorce  from.  Then  he  brought  me  over  here,  and 
kept  away  from  me,  and  left  me  after  a  month — less  than 
a  month.  Lilly — that's  my  maid — could  tell  you  just 
when.  I  never  remember  dates.  And  " — she  burst  out 
crying —  "  Oh,  I'm  so  lonely,  and  I  do  love  him  so ! 
He  gave  me  all  the  money  I  wanted,  and  everything." 
She  stopped  crying  as  abruptly  as  she  had  begun,  and 
was  smiling.  "  It's  too  funny." 

Juliet  was  pale  and  rigid,  her  hands  clasped  in  her 
lap.  But  Viola  did  not  see;  her  glance,  errant  as  her 
butterfly  thoughts,  had  lighted  upon  Juliet's  dress. 

477 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

"  What  a  beautiful,  sweet  matinee  you've  got  on.  I  see 
it's  from  Callot.  I  know  all  the  models  now.  Do  you 
like  Callot?  I  prefer  Le  Ferriere — this  season — though, 
when  it  comes  to  wraps,  none  of  them  has  the — the  swell- 
ness  of  Paquin.  .  .  .  But,  I  was  saying,  it's  very  funny 
— about  him  and  me.  Even  when  he  and  I  first — first 
got  well  acquainted,  do  you  know,  it  was  so  queer,  he 
always  gave  me  the  feeling  that  he  was  imagining  I  was 
some  other  woman.  Oh,  but  he's  strange !  " 

Juliet's  eyes  were  brilliant;  her  color  had  returned. 

"  Men  are  funny,  anyhow,"  continued  Viola. 
"  They're  full  of  all  kinds  of  crazy  notions.  They're 
never  sensible  where  women  are  concerned.  And  it  irri 
tates  them  to  find  out  how  practical  we  women  are.  A 
woman  has  to  pretend  not  to  be  human  with  them.  The 
crazier  she  acts  the  better  they  like  it.  I've  learned  just 
to  keep  my  mouth  shut  and  look ;  then  they  think  they 
see  it  all  in  my  eyes." 

Breakfast  was  announced.  Viola  protested;  Juliet 
insisted ;  Viola  yielded.  As  she  ate  and  drank  her  spirits 
grew  lighter  and  lighter.  "  You  don't  know  how  lone 
some  I've  been.  But  my  time's  nearly  up.  He  said  six 
months ;  so  I  can  sail  two  weeks  from  Wednesday.  I 
promised  him  to  stay,  and  I've  kept  my  word.  I'll  find 
Jessie  in  a  convent.  She  always  was  religious,  but  I 
never  thought  it'd  be  so  serious  with  her  while  her  looks 
lasted.  It  just  shows  you  how  you  never  can  tell  what's 
going  on  in  people's  heads.  I  guess  she  loved  that 
horrible  Tom  Berkeley.  Did  you  know  him  ?  No  ?  You 
may  be  glad  you  didn't.  He  was  very  different  from 
Mr.  Murdock.  .  .  .  That's  another  funny  thing.  I 
always — always — called  him  Mr.  Murdook — yes,  indeed 
• — always."  And  she  nodded  and  smiled  roguishly  at 
Juliet  over  the  rim  of  her  glass  of  red  wine.  "  Did  you 

478 


VIOLA    GIVES   THE   CLEW 

ever  hear  anything  so  funny?  Do  you  wonder  I  used 
to  get  to  thinking  about  him  until  I'd  be  all  worked  up, 
and  then,  as  soon  as  I'd  see  him  it'd  be  like — like  cold 
storage.  Fancy !  " 

"  You  say  he  has  gone?  " 

"  Gone !  "  Viola  felt  that  it  was  the  stage,  the  ro 
mantic  .  drama,  in  real  life,  herself  the  heroine.  Play 
acting — "  make  believe  "  as  the  children  call  it — is  our 
chief  business  all  our  lives.  There  is  the  conscious,  stud 
ied  playing  of  various  roles  for  various  advantages 
among  the  educated  classes ;  with  them  the  natural  theat 
rical,  imitative  instinct  has  been  developed  by  the  read 
ing  of  literature  which  accepts  as  genuine  and  accentu 
ates  as  admirable  the  struttings  and  posings  of  mere 
mortals.  And  among  the  educated,  "  make  believe  "  is 
carried  on  with  never  a  grin,  like  their  other  solemn 
frauds  of  manners  and  dress  and  conventionality.  But 
among  the  simpler  beings,  those  unspoiled  by  carefully 
intrained  pose  and  pretense,  the  staginess  is  less  serious. 
Viola  put  on  a  tragic  face  and  got  ready  for  her 
"  turn  " ;  but  she  had  a  sensible  eye,  alert  for  signs  that 
Juliet  was  not  impressed.  And  the  signs  were  obvious. 
"  Yes,  gone,"  she  said,  lapsing  briskly  into  "  every 
day."  "  And  while  he  did  the  handsome  thing  by  me 
I'm  afraid  something  has  happened  to  him.  I  don't 
see  his  name  in  the  Herald  as  having  arrived  anywhere. 
Do  you  think  anything  dreadful  could  have  happened 
to  him?" 

"  No,"  replied  Juliet,  giving  her  an  assurance  that 
far  from  satisfied  herself.  "  If  anything  had  happened, 
then  his  bankers — whoever  communicates  with  him — • 
and  he  would  have  to  keep  in  touch  with  somebody, 
wouldn't  he? — they'd  have  begun  an  open  search." 

The  good  sense  of  this  moved  Viola  to  admiration. 
479 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

"  What  an  advantage  it  is  to  have  brains !  Now,  if  I 
had  thought  of  that  I'd  have  saved  myself  many  a  sleep 
less — that  is,  a  good  deal  of  worry.  You  see,  having 
nothing  much  to  do,  I've  thought  about  him." 

"  How  long  has  it  been?  " 

"  He  left  me  early  in  June — no,  late  in  May —  He 
just  lifted  his  hat  at  the  door — he  never  once  was  even 
inside  the  house,  though  it's  a  perfect  dream — a 
beauty " 

"And  didn't  say  where  he  was  going?" 

"  Just  lifted  his  hat  and  shook  hands  and  said 
good-by,  as  if  I  were  some  fashionable  lady  friend  he'd 
been  calling  on.  He  was  using  me  for  some  purpose, 
and  he  was  done.  That's  my  opinion." 

Juliet  was  gazing  past  Viola,  her  eyes  wide  and 
strange.  Viola  stared.  "Why,  what's  the  matter, 
Miss  Raeburn !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Nothing — nothing,"  said  Juliet  slowly  and  with 
difficulty  returning  to  her  surroundings.  "  You  say 
you've  been  to  all  the  shops.  I  wonder  what  you  saw 
that  I  overlooked."  And  they  plunged  into  discussion 
of  fall  styles,  winter  styles,  hats,  dresses,  wraps,  furs. 
Viola  talked  well,  so  well  that  Juliet  presently  inter 
rupted  with,  "  It's  a  shame  your  talent  shouldn't  be 
used.  Why  don't  you  settle  down  and  go  into  busi 
ness?" 

Viola  instantly  became  uneasy;  her  self-conscious 
ness  had  returned — the  memory  of  what  she  was.  "  Oh 
— you  know.  I'm  6  out  of  it '." 

"  Do  you  like  what  you're  doing  ?  " 

"  I  do  and  I  don't.  Now  that  he  has  given  me 
an  income —  I  didn't  tell  you  about  that.  He  told 
me  I'd  done  him  a  great  service,  though  I  can't  see 
it,  and  he  said  he  owed  it  to  me.  Anyhow,  I've  got 

480 


VIOLA    GIVES    THE    CLEW 

it.  It's  where  I  can't  blow  it  in.  I'll  not  have  to 
worry  any  more,  or  put  up  with — with  things  I  don't 
like." 

"  Did  you  ever  think  you'd  like  to  have  a  home  and 
—a  baby?" 

"  Never !  "  exclaimed  Viola.  "  No,  I  was  born  to 
be  free,  and  to  roam  about.  I  hate  to  be  respectable — 
church,  Sunday  school,  prayer  meeting,  not  go  out  af 
ter  supper —  O  Lord!  it  gives  me  the  horrors  to 
think  of  Sunday  at  our  house —  I  had  to  be  all  that 
till  I  was  sixteen.  Then  I — scooted !  ...  If  it  wasn't 
for  getting  old — "  Viola  shivered,  but  it  was  a  sum 
mer  shiver  at  thought  of  winter.  "  Still,  that's  a  long 
ways  off  yet.  Please  don't  preach !  " 

"  I  wasn't  going  to  preach." 

"  But  you  are  preaching.     It's  in  your  eyes." 

"  No,  no,"  Juliet  protested.  "  I'd  like  to,  but  some 
how  the  things  that  are  usually  said  on  such  occasions 
seem  not  to  fit." 

"That's  it— they  don't  fit.  I'm  happy.  Why 
should  I  change?  I  don't  hanker  after  respectability. 
I've  got  no  brains  for  anything  useful " 

"  I  could  make  a  place  for  you — a  good  place." 

66  You  wouldn't  have  me  about." 

"  Indeed  I  would." 

"  But  you  know — what  kind  I  am." 

"  Business  people  don't  bother  about  those  things  in 
business." 

When  Viola  rose  to  go  she  returned  to  the  subject, 
and  her  manner  showed  that  it  was  attracting  her. 
"  About  your  offer,"  said  she  shyly :  "  If  you  had  me 
around,  respectable  people  would  shun  Dangerfield's." 

"  I'm  assuming  you'd  have  enough  regard  for  me  to 
cause  no  scandal." 

481 


OLD  WIVES  FOE   NEW* 

"  You'd  really  have  me?  " 

"  I  want  you.  I  need  you,"  replied  the  head  of  Dan 
ger-field's.  "  I'd  agree  to  make  you  chief  foreign  buyer 
if  you'd  agree  not  to  —  to  set  the  rest  of  us  a  bad 
example." 

"  You'd  really  have  me  ?  " 

"  Really.  If  you  ever  get  tired  of  your  present 
line,  come  round  and  talk  it  over.  You'd  live  over  here 
most  of  the  year." 

Viola  looked  at  her  wistfully.  "  If  I  only  had  a  tiny 
spark  of  the  lady  in  me  or  of  longing  to  be  a  lady.  But 
I  haven't.  I'm  a  born — what  the  men  call  me  when  I 
make  them  angry." 

"  Don't  take  yourself  so  seriously,"  advised  Juliet. 
"  You'll  come  out  all  right.  You'll  sow  your  wild  oats 
— get  even  for  those  dreary  Sundays  after  a  while, 
and  want  to  do  something  permanently  interesting. 
Then " 

"  I  wonder,"  mused  Viola.  "  You  make  me  think 
I'm  not  such  a  fool,  after  all."  She  bluslied,  said  with 
humble  hesitation,  "  Would  you  mind  if  I — kissed  you?  " 

"  I'd  like  it ! "  exclaimed  Juliet,  and  proceeded  to 
kiss  her  heartily.  "  Good  luck !  I  believe  I  could  fit  you 
out  with  a  job  that  would  interest  you  more  than  any 
thing  you  ever  did  in  your  life." 

"  I  may  astonish  you  by  turning  up." 

A  safe  quarter  of  an  hour  after  Viola  left,  Emma 
came  into  the  salon,  first  taking  a  thorough  precaution 
ary  look  round.  "  The  man  said  she  had  gone."  She 
sniffed  the  air  and  made  a  wry  face. 

"  What  hypocrisy !  "  said  Juliet  impatiently.  "  She 
uses  the  same  perfume  I  do." 

"  But  it  smells  different  on  her." 

Juliet  went  into  her  dressing  room,  returned  with 
482 


VIOLA    GIVES    THE   CLEW 

hat  and  gloves.  "  I'm  going  out,"  she  said.  "  I  may 
not  be  back  until  late." 

"Wither?" 

Juliet  gave  a  queer  laugh.  "  Worse  than  that — 
much  worse." 

Her  expression  was  so  strange  that  Emma  went  into 
a  panic.  "  I  know  you  will  do  nothing  unwomanly," 
said  she,  her  agitation  betraying  that  the  words,  as  those 
words  usually  do,  meant  precisely  the  reverse. 

"  Nothing  unwomanly,  I  assure  you." 

Juliet's  accent  upon  the  unwomanly  confirmed  her 
sister  in  dread.  "  Juliet,  I  do  not  trust  you !  "  she  cried. 
"  No  woman  is  to  be  trusted  where  a  man  is  concerned, 
and  no  man  where  a  woman  is  concerned." 

"  I  should  hope  not.  What  a  dull  world  it  would 
be,  if  it  weren't  so — and  how  little  you'd  have  to  inter 
est  you." 

With  that  she  departed,  leaving  deepening  anxiety 
behind  her.  For  the  longer  Emma  revolved  Juliet's 
astounding  confession  about  Murdock  the  more  con 
vinced  she  was  that  the  long-dreaded  crisis  had  come 
— the  crisis  she  had  been  expecting  ever  since  Juliet  at 
fifteen  suddenly  transformed  from  an  awkward,  not  es 
pecially  pretty  though  unusual  chatterbox  of  a  girl 
into  a  beautiful  woman,  willful,  whimsical,  impatient  of 
restraint  and  monotony,  contemptuous  of  conventionali 
ties  which  are  law  and  testament  to  most  human  beings. 
A  woman  no  man  could  look  at  unmoved  was  certain 
some  day  to  meet  the  man  who  would  move  her.  Then 
— what?  "  He  will  certainly  be  an  improper  person," 
Emma  had  always  thought.  "  Good,  sober,  regular  men 
do  not  attract  her.  She  imagines  she  thinks  them  either 
hypocrites,  suppressing  their  natural  selves,  or  cowards 
who  dare  not  be  what  they  long  to  be.  She  has  utterly 

483 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

false  and  perverted  notions  of  human  nature.  She  is 
absolutely  irresponsible.  A  wild  bird — "  Emma  wrung 
her  hands — "  and  the  cage  door  is  open  at  last." 

At  her  bankers,  Juliet  got  a  list  of  all  the  banks  in 
Paris  that  did  direct  business  with  America.  She  went 
to  each,  and  said  to  the  mail  clerk :  "  I  wish  to  leave  a 
letter  here  for  Mr.  Murdock."  As  she  said  it  she  watched 
the  clerk's  face  narrowly.  But  at  none  of  the  banks  did 
he  give  any  indication  of  knowledge  of  Murdock.  She 
was  certain  that  if  any  of  them  were  in  the  habit  of 
receiving  mail  for  him  she  would  have  seen  it.  Discour 
aged,  she  returned  to  her  own  bank  to  ask  the  clerk 
there  whether  he  had  not  omitted  some  one  banker.  As 
her  cab  reached  the  curb  a  cab  ahead  was  just  driv 
ing  away ;  something  in  the  air  of  the  occupant  made 
her  look  again.  It  was  Simcox. 

"  Follow  that  fiacre,"  said  she  to  her  cabman,  "  and 
don't  lose  sight  of  it.  A  louis  beside  your  fare." 

"  Parfaitement,  madame.    He  shall  not  escape." 


xxxvn 

"  DO    YOU    NO    LONGER    OAEE?  " 

AFTER  that  farewell  drive  with  Viola,  Murdock, 
returning  to  his  hotel,  told  Simcox  to  pack  certain  of 
his  belongings  into  a  small  box  and  a  bag,  both  new  and 
unmarked.  "  Send  the  rest  to  storage.  I'm  going  away 
to-night.  Here  is  a  check.  That  will  give  you  a  chance 
to  look  about." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Simcox.  His  wrinkled  leath 
ery  countenance  expressed  normally  the  last  degree  of 
funereal  despair ;  so  the  only  changes  to  which  it  could 
respond  were  toward  a  lightening  of  the  gloom.  As  this 
was  not  an  occasion  for  such  a  change  he  remained  appar 
ently  impassive. 

"  Here  is  the  check,"  repeated  Murdock,  holding  it 
out. 

"  Yes,  sir."    But  Simcox  made  no  move  to  take  it. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Murdock  impatiently. 
Any  trifle  would  now  set  the  hot  bubbles  of  causeless 
anger  to  boiling  in  his  blood. 

"  I'm  dazed,  sir — taken  aback  like.  I  was  trying  to 
think." 

Murdock  put  the  check  on  the  table  in  the  center  of 
the  room,  seated  himself  at  the  desk  and  resumed  tearing 
up  letters  and  papers. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  interrupted  Simcox's  respectful 
voice. 

485 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW, 

Murdock  frowned,  turned  abruptly.  "  What !  Still 
standing  there?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    I've  been  thinking." 

"  Well?  " 

"  I  haven't  got  anybody  but  you,  sir,  and  you've  got 
to  have  somebody  to  take  care  of  you.  I'll  never  forget 
what  a  state  you  was  in  when  I  first  came  to  you.  And 
— I  don't  want  to  go  back  to  my  drinking,  Mr.  Mur 
dock.  But  I  surely  will  if  I  get  lonesome  again.  It's 
lonesomeness  that  leads  to  drink." 

Murdock  reddened ;  he  had  been  drinking  heavily  of 
late,  because  it  benumbed  his  nerves.  "  I  don't  know 
just  what  I'm  going  to  do  with  myself,  Simcox,"  said 
he.  "  You  wouldn't  care  to  knock  about  as  I  probably 
shall." 

"  One  place  is  just  the  same  as  another  to  me,  sir. 
I'm  like  a  dog — all  I  want  is  my  master  and  my  meals." 

Murdock  averted  his  face  abruptly.  So  there  was 
somebody  in  the  world  who  cared  for  him — somebody 
who  put  him  first.  The  irony  of  it !  He,  envied  prob 
ably  by  those  who  were  taking  advantage  of  his  silence 
and  absence  to  denounce  him — he,  with  so  much  that  the 
world  most  esteems — he,  ever  more  and  more  solitary  and 
lonely,  as  his  wealth  and  his  power  grew — he,  now  with 
but  one  friend  left,  and  that  one  a  dependent,  a  valet, 
without  ambition  enough  to  be  disloyal  and  scheme  to 
use  his  master  for  his  own  advancement.  He  turned  in 
his  chair  and  surveyed  the  ungainly,  common  figure  and 
face.  As  he  looked,  his  eyes  softened  to  the  blue  gray 
that  changed  the  whole  character  of  his  features,  took 
away  relentlessness  and  hardness,  and  reflected  the  best 
of  his  generous,  human  heart.  In  the  whole  world,  how 
many  of  those  living  and  dying,  fancying  they  were 
surrounded  by  friends — how  many  could,  if  the  real  test 

486 


"DO    YOU   NO   LONGER    CARE?" 

came,  show  one  single  human  friend  as  faithful  as  the 
meanest  dog  would  be  as  a  matter  of  course?  "  Why, 
I'm  rich ! "  said  Murdock  to  himself,  gazing  at  the 
stooped,  slouching  figure  of  Simcox.  "  Rich !  I've  got 
a  real  friend !  " 

"  There  ain't  no  reason  why  you  should  cast  me 
adrift,  is  there  now  ? "  urged  Simcox,  funereal  and 
monotonous. 

"  Stay  if  you  like,"  said  Murdock  gruffly. 

Their  eyes  met  for  an  instant,  and  each  understood 
the  other.  "  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Simcox.  He  tore 
up  the  check  without  having  looked  at  it,  and  went 
about  his  duties. 

That  was  indeed  a  nomad  summer.  Murdock's  life, 
with  all  its  purposes  and  activities  blighted,  had  become 
a  desert ;  and  he  was  lost  in  it,  was  using  his  tremendous 
energy  in  furious,  futile  efforts  to  escape.  The  ever- 
increasing  crowd  of  human  beings  who  roam  restlessly 
up  and  down  the  earth  and  to  and  fro  therein  contains 
not  a  few  of  these  lost  ones.  They  stand  out,  distinct 
as  Wandering  Jew  in  caravan  of  Christian  pilgrims, 
from  those  seeking  knowledge  or  satisfying  curiosity  or 
trying  to  stifle  boredom's  yawns.  They  are  the  men  and 
women  who  have  lost  caste  or  reputation  or  love  or  hope, 
yet  for  one  reason  or  another  do  not  put  the  sure  quietus 
upon  their  torment ;  they  fly  from  place  to  place,  in  their 
eyes  the  look  of  the  damned  in  hell ;  they  hasten,  pause, 
hasten  on  again,  rush  forward,  wheel,  and  rapidly  re 
trace  their  steps.  They  drink  and  suddenly  abandon 
drink ;  they  gamble  madly,  then  fly  from  the  tables  to 
return  no  more ;  they  wind  in  and  out  of  concourses  for 
pleasure ;  they  rush  eagerly  into  sensuality,  only  to  quit 
the  glittering  banquet  table,  impelled  by  sudden  nausea. 
And  all  the  while,  their  torment  utters  no  word  or  ges- 

487 


OLD   WIVES   FOR   NEW* 

ture ;  for  the  real  tragedies  are  dumb,  having  no  long 
ing  to  attract  the  sympathy  or  pity  for  which  outward 
signs  of  woe  are  the  signals.  Life  has  ceased  to  be  a 
theatrical  performance,  has  become  a  horrible  reality. 
The  hours  cease  to  fly,  the  years  to  revolve ;  eternity  be 
comes  a  present  fact,  and  each  moment  gives  the  pendu 
lum  ample  time  to  swing  through  an  infinite  arc. 

"  What  day  is  it?  " — What  time  is  it?  " — these  were 
the  questions  that  made  up  most  of  Murdock's  conver 
sation  with  Simcox.  And  he  always  heard  Simcox's  an 
swer  with  the  same  stern  frown.  In  August,  he  turned 
back  from  the  wilds  of  the  Balkans  to  speed  across 
Europe  in  automobile;  travel  in  any  other  way  had 
become  monotonously  tedious.  He  embarked  at  Liver 
pool,  still  under  an  assumed  name,  but  got  off  at  Queens- 
town  and  dashed  back  across  Ireland  and  England  to 
the  Continent.  He  lay  in  a  drunken  stupor  many  days 
at  the  Bristol  in  Vienna,  roused  himself,  fled  to  Switzer 
land,  recklessly  ascended  several  dangerous  peaks ;  with 
a  sprained  ankle,  which  his  restlessness  would  not  per 
mit  to  heal,  he  had  himself  motored  down  through  France 
to  the  Pyrenees,  to  Madrid,  to  Gibraltar,  back  again, 
going  night  and  day,  to  Paris ;  and  there,  in  late  Sep 
tember,  he  hid  in  an  apartment  in  the  Boulevard  St. 
Germain,  sinking  down  in  a  torpor. 

Through  all  those  wanderings  and  hardships  he  suf 
fered  little  physical  change.  The  same  force  that  was 
benumbing  his  mind  seemed  to  preserve  his  body  intact. 
His  strong,  rather  grim  but  distinctly  youthful  face, 
bronzed  by  exposure,  showed  no  traces  of  what  was 
going  on  within,  except  in  the  eyes  ;  they  seemed  to  burn, 
as  if  he  had  a  high  fever  and  were  on  the  verge  of  de 
lirium.  Simcox  brought  him  the  mail  every  steamer  day 
— great  bundles  of  it,  and  cablegrams.  But  he  simply 

488 


"DO    YOU   NO   LONGER    CARE?" 

glanced  at  the  envelopes  or  at  the  code  messages,  with 
no  desire  to  penetrate  further ;  it  was  news  from  a  world 
which  he  no  longer  inhabited  and  which  no  longer  inter 
ested  him.  Simcox  put  before  him  a  photograph  of 
Norma's  boy.  He  stared  at  it,  let  it  fall  to  the  floor, 
forgot  it. 

"  Seems  like  he  can't  neither  die  nor  live,"  said  the 
valet.  And  he  gave  many  an  hour  to  revolving  plans — 
without  getting  anywhere — for  his  master's  cure.  As 
he  drove  away  from  the  one  bank  at  which  Juliet  had  not 
thought  to  inquire — her  own — he  saw  her  following. 
But  he  did  not  change  his  order  to  the  coachman.  The 
two  cabs  crossed  the  Pont  Alexandre  III,  one  close  be 
hind  the  other,  Juliet  taking  care  to  keep  the  coach 
man's  broad,  sedentary  back  between  her  and  Sim- 
cox's  range  of  vision.  Simcox  descended  at  Murdock's 
apartment,  sent  away  his  cab ;  with  the  big  bag  of 
mail  beside  him  on  the  curb  he  waited  for  Juliet  to 
drive  up.  She  looked  disconcerted,  but  his  expression 
reassured  her.  When  she  was  facing  him  on  the  side 
walk  he  touched  his  hat  and  said,  "  Do  you  wish  to  see 
him,  ma'am?  " 

"  Yes,  Simcox." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am.     I'll  take  you  to  him." 

They  entered  the  house,  ascended  to  the  second  floor. 
He  opened  one  of  the  great  double  doors  of  Murdock's 
apartment,  motioned  her  into  a  seat  in  the  hall.  "  Wait 
here,"  said  he.  After  about  ten  minutes  he  returned, 
explaining :  "  He  don't  know  anybody's  come.  He's  sit 
ting  in  the  salon,  there." 

She  silently  put  out  her  hand.     Simcox  touched  it 

respectfully.     "  God  bless  you,  ma'am,"  he  murmured. 

She  drew  aside  the  curtain  just  enough  to  permit  her 

to  enter.     The  lofty  room,  all  white  and  gilt  and  mir- 

32  489 


OLD    WIVES   FOR   NEW 

rored,  was  in  twilight;  a  wood  fire  blazed  cheerfully 
in  the  far  corner.  Before  it,  staring  at  the  quiet, 
softly  brilliant  flames,  sat  Murdock,  a  cigar  between 
the  fingers  of  one  hand  that  hung  listlessly  over  the 
arm  of  the  chair. 

"  Murdock !  "  she  said  gently. 

The  figure  did  not  move. 

"  Murdock,"  she  repeated  in  the  same  soft  under 
tone. 

Still  no  movement.  She  advanced  toward  him ;  the 
frou  frou  of  her  skirts,  though  faint,  sounded  very  dis 
tinct  in  that  stillness.  She  had  bared  her  hand;  she 
just  rested  the  tips  of  her  fingers  upon  his  thick,  crisp 
hair.  He  stirred  uneasily.  She  went  round,  stood 
before  him,  one  side  of  her  in  the  semidarkness ;  the 
other  in  the  rich  golden  light  of  the  blaze.  Very  sweet 
and  slender  and  alluring  she  looked;  and  her  small, 
oval  face,  with  its  halo  of  waving  pompadour  crowned 
by  a  hat  as  graceful  as  a  cloud  line,  irradiated  the  love 
and  longing  that  beat  in  every  pulse  of  her  blood.  His 
gaze  slowly  traveled  up  her  figure  until  it  met  hers. 
At  first  he  seemed  not  to  see,  then  not  to  believe  his 
sight.  Then  there  leaped  into  his  eyes  such  a  look 
that  she  cried  out  with  joy —  "Ah!  Murdock!  Mur 
dock!" 

He  rose;  but,  instead  of  advancing  toward  her,  he 
stood  with  the  great  chair  between  them.  He  looked 
cold  and  calm  now.  He  bowed  slightly.  "  You  are 
lingering  in  Paris  late  this  year,"  he  said  in  formal 
tones. 

She  was  thrust  back,  confused  for  the  moment.  She 
showed  it  by  saying,  formal  as  he,  "  I  always  stay  late, 
because  the  best  models  aren't  shown  until  the  dress 
makers  and  the  tourists  have  left." 

490 


ffDO    YOU   NO   LONGER    CARE?" 

He  moved  toward  the  bell  rope.  "  Perhaps  you 
will  have  tea." 

"  Thanks,"  she  murmured.  She  felt  as  if  she  were 
facing  an  utter  stranger;  and  beforehand  she  had 
thought  there  might  possibly  be  any  kind  of  barrier 
between  them  except  one  of  ice.  He  arranged  a  chair 
at  the  fire  for  her.  Simcox  came  with  the  tea,  drew  a 
small  table  to  her  side,  set  the  tray  upon  it,  departed. 

"  How  will  you  have  yours  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  As  it  may  happen — strong — or  weak — it  does  not 
matter." 

He  took  the  cup,  set  it  on  the  tobacco  stand  at  his 
elbow.  She  had  been  warm ;  she  now  felt  as  if  she  were 
about  to  have  a  chill — a  nervous  chill.  She  could  think 
of  nothing  to  say;  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  say. 
And  he  sat  there,  rigid,  his  face  unrelaxing ;  he  not  only 
did  not  speak,  but  also  froze  her  from  power  to  speak. 
Yet  speak  she  must.  "  We — my  sister  and  I — are 
sailing  next  week." 

"  Yes  ?  "  he  said  politely,  and  his  eyes  rested  coldly 
on  her  for  an  instant. 

"  You  are  making  it  terribly  hard  for  me,"  she 
cried  in  desperation.  "  But  I  will  say  what  I  came  to 
say." 

He  looked  at  her  in  an  attitude  of  listening  and 
waiting — the  courtesy  of  host  to  unwelcome  guest  who 
must  yet  be  treated  with  politeness. 

"  I  came  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me  for  having 
doubted  you — and  deserted  you.  I  should  have  under 
stood.  But —  ...  I  was — jealous." 

"  All  that  belongs  to  yesterday — a  dead  and  buried 
yesterday."  He  made  a  motion  to  rise — a  hint  that 
the  interview  was  at  an  end. 

But  she  did  not  rise.  She  leaned  toward  him  and 
491 


OLD    WIVES  FOR   NEW 

her  eyes  searched  his.  "  Murdock,"  she  said,  "  do  you 
no  longer  care  for  me?  " 

He  was  silent — the  silence  that  seems  charitably  to 
withhold  an  unpleasant  truth. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  she  said  with  a  weary  sigh.  "  I 
should  have  forgiven  you  anything.  But  that's  no  rea 
son  why  you  should  forgive  me,  is  it?  It  killed  your 
love  to  find  out  I  was  not  what  you  thought,  that  I 
did  not  take  my  stand  beside  you,  when  they  were  try 
ing  to  destroy  you  with  their  hypocritical  scorn." 

He  shrugged  indifferently.  "  It's  fortunate  you 
acted  as  you  did,"  said  he.  "  If  you  had  indulged  in 
any  such  theatricals,  we  should  both  have  been 
lynched." 

"  Still,  I  ought  to  have  come.  I've  hated  myself 
ever  since  I  found  out  to-day  that  you  took  Viola  to 
shield  me.  You  were  thinking  of  me,  and  I — "  She 
made  a  gesture  of  disdain —  "  I  was  groveling  in 
jealousy.  What  a  frightful  thing  an  imagination  is! 
I  could  see  her  in  your  arms — and,  God,  how  I  loved 
you!" 

He  bit  his  lip  and  frowned. 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  said  hastily.  "  I  didn't  mean  to 
refer  to  that  again.  All  I  wished  was  to  let  you  know 
that  at  least  I  wasn't  a  coward." 

He  again  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  What  does  it 
matter?" 

"  What,  indeed  ?  But  when  I  came  here,  I  hoped  it 
would.  And  the  way  you  looked  when  you  saw  me — 
But  that  was  because  you  forgot  for  the  instant  how 
unworthy  I  had  shown  myself.  .  .  .  You  see,  I  do  love 
you,  Murdock,  and  I  want  you.  I  think  I  developed, 
became  a  woman,  unusually  early.  I  can't  remember 
when  I  wasn't  dreaming  of  the  man  I'd  some  day  love 

492 


"DO   YOU   NO   LONGER    CARE?" 

and  give  myself  to.  Then — up  there  in  the  wilderness 
I  met — you." 

She  paused,  leaned  her  elbow  upon  the  table,  like 
him  gazed  into  the  flames. 

"  You  were  right,"  she  went  on,  her  voice  low  and 
quiet  and  sweet  as  distant  music.  "  I  did  love  you 
from  that  time  you  caught  me  in  your  arms  to  save 
me  from  the  whirlpool.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember  the  day 
we  shot  the  rapids  in  the  canoe — you  kneeling  in  front 
of  me,  I  steadying  myself  by  holding  to  you?  How 
the  river  boiled  and  hissed! — and  the  smooth  green 
water  on  every  side,  and  the  great  oily  whirlpools 
crawling  out  toward  our  boat  to  suck  it  down  to  de 
struction  if  you  let  the  prow  vary  by  so  much  as  an 
inch  in  that  angry  white  streak  in  the  center  of  the 
river.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

Was  it  the  firelight  flickering  on  his  face  or  was 
it  lights  and  shadows  from  within? 

"  You  loved  me  then !  Is  it  all  dead — dead  for 
ever?  " 

He  was  leaning  forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
his  fascinated  gaze  upon  the  fire. 

"  I  came  to-day  to  be  to  you  whatever  you  wish. 
I  thought,  '  If  he  cannot  forgive  and  respect  and  love 
me,  still  perhaps  he  will  let  me  love  him.'  For,  my 
soul,  my  body,  cry  out  for  you  without  ceasing.  I 
should  have  become  worn  and  ugly,  I  think,  if  I  had 
not  been  always  thinking  I  must  keep  what  looks  I 
had  for  the  time  when —  You  see,  I  have  no  pride; 
no  woman  has,  when  she  loves.  Yes,  I  was  waiting  for 
the  time  when  you  would  grow  tired  of — of  Viola — and 
might  perhaps  turn  to  me.  I've  never  got  a  dress  or 
a  hat  that  I've  not  said,  '  Will  he  fancy  me  in  this,  if 
by  chance  he  should  come  when  I  have  it  on  ? '  And 


OLD  WIVES  FOB  NEW 

when  I  saw  Viola  on  the  street  yesterday,  saw  you  were 
not  with  her,  my  heart  leaped,  for  I  began  to  hope 
you  had  wearied  of  her." 

He  started  up.  "  Stop ! "  he  cried  fiercely. 
"Stop!" 

Her  bosom  was  heaving  stormily  and  she  was  sob 
bing,  but  her  eyes  were  tearless.  She  flung  herself  at 
his  feet.  "  Then,  let  me  stay  as  a  servant.  I'll  never 
be  jealous  again — at  least,  you'll  never  see  it.  I  must 
stay  near  you.  I'll  not  trouble  you.  If  you  send  me 
away — you'd  be  kinder  if  you  killed  me." 

He  sank  into  his  chair,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 
Presently  she  put  out  her  arm,  timidly  touched  him; 
and  when  he  did  not  draw  away,  she  nestled  against 
his  knees.  She  flung  off  her  hat ;  her  hair,  escaping  in 
strays,  waved  about  her  face,  and  her  eyes  blazed  pas 
sionately  up  at  him.  "  Ah,  you  do  love  me,"  she  said 
softly,  and  her  voice  was  like  the  murmur  of  a  tigress 
under  the  caresses  of  her  mate. 

"  You  must  go,"  he  insisted.  "  I  have  destroyed 
myself.  But  I  will  not  destroy  you.  Nor  shall  I  let  you 
destroy  yourself.  My  life's  in  ruins — /  ruined  it.  I  am 
an  outcast.  But  I  will  wander  alone."  He  took  her 
small,  oval  face  between  his  hands.  "  Love  you  ?  "  he 
cried.  "  I  love  you  so  that  if  I  should  put  my  arms 
about  you  I  would  crush  you " 

She  straightened  herself  on  her  knees,  her  eyes 
flashing,  her  nostrils  quivering.  "  Crush  me !  I'll  not 
cry  out,  unless  it  is  with  joy.  I  love  you,  Murdock, 
as  they  love  in  the  forest  where  we  were  at  home." 

"  Go  back  to  your  reputation.  To-morrow  you 
will  hate  me." 

"  If  I  were  a  man — yes.  It  is  you  men  who  cower 
before  opinion.  But  not  women — not  real  women. 

494 


"DO    YOU   NO   LONGER    CARE?39 

When  a  real  woman  finds  her  master,  she  follows  him. 
And  his  approval  is  her  honor,  his  frown  her  dishonor." 

"  You  are  mad ! "  And  then  she  was  in  his  arms. 
"  We  are  both  mad !  " 

"  Yes — yes,"  she  gasped,  her  fingers  biting  into  his 
shoulders,  and  her  face  upturned  to  his  with  eyes  wide 
like  an  eagle's  to  the  blaze  of  the  sun.  "  Mad — quite 
mad.  Do  we  not  love  each  other?  You  are  angel  and 
devil,  both  in  one.  And — I  adore  you !  " 


(9) 


THE  END 


BOOKS  ON  NATURE  STUDY  BY 

CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS 

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story  runs  through  the  book,  and  is  handled  with  infinite  skill. 

THE  HEART  LINE,  by  Gelett  Burgess,  with  halftone  illustra 
tions  by  Lester  Ralph,  and  inlay  cover  in  colors. 

A  great  dramatic  story  of  the  city  that  was.  A  story  of  Bohemian 
life  in  San  Francisco,  before  the  disaster,  presented  with  mirror-like 
accuracy.  Compressed  into  it  are  all  the  sparkle,  all  the  gayety,  all 
the  wild,  whirling  life  of  the  glad,  mad,  bad,  and  most  delightful  city 
of  the  Golden  Gate. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 

IN  POPULAR  PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time,  library  size, 
printed  on  excellent  paper— most  of  them  finely  illustrated.  Full  and 
handsomely  bound  in  doth.  Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

CAROLINA  LEE.    By  Lillian  BelL    With  frontispiece  by  Dora 
Wheeler  Keith. 

Carolina  Lee  is  the  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  of  Christian  Science.  Its 
keynote  is  "  Divine  Love"  in  the  understanding  of  the  knowledge  of 
all  good  things  which  may  be  obtainable.  When  the  tale  is  told,  the 
sick  healed,  wrong  changed  to  right,  poverty  of  purse  and  spirit 
turned  into  riches,  lovers  made  worthy  of  each  other  and  happily 
united,  including  Carolina  Lee  and  her  affinity,  it  is  borne  upon  the 
reader  that  he  has  been  giving  rapid  attention  to  a  free  lecture  on 
Christian  Science ;  that  the  working  out  of  each  character  is  an  argu 
ment  for  "  Faith ;"  and  that  the  theory  is  persuasively  attractive. 

A  Christian  Science  novel  that  will  bring  delight  to  the  heart  of 
every  believer  in  that  faith.  It  is  a  well  told  story,  entertaining,  and 
cleverly  mingles  art,  humor  and  sentiment. 

HILMA,  by  William  Tillinghast   Eldridge,  with  illustrations  by 
Harrison  Fisher  and  Martin  Justice,  and  inlay  cover. 

It  is  a  rattling  good  tale,  written  with  charm,  and  full  of  remark 
able  happenings,  dangerous  doings,  strange  events,  jealous  intrigues 
and  sweet  love  making.  The  reader's  interest  is  not  permitted  to  lag, 
but  is  taken  up  and  carried  on  from  incident  to  incident  with  ingenu 
ity  and  contagious  enthusiasm.  The  story  gives  us  the  Graustark 
and  The  Prisoner  of  Zenda  thrill,  but  the  tale  is  treated  with  fresh 
ness,  ingenuity,  and  enthusiasm,  and  the  climax  is  both  unique  and 
satisfying.  It  will  hold  the  fiction  lover  close  to  every  page. 

THE   MYSTERY    OF    THE    FOUR    FINGERS,  by  Fred  M. 
White,  with  halftone  illustrations   by  Will  Grefe. 

A  fabulously  rich  gold  mine  in  Mexico  is  known  by  the  picturesque 
and  mysterious  name  of  The  Pour  Fingers.  It  originally  belonged 
to  an  Aztec  tribe,  and  its  location  is  known  to  one  surviving  descendant 
— a  man  possessing  wonderful  occult  power.  Should  any  person  un 
lawfully  discover  its  whereabouts,  four  of  his  fingers  are  mysteriously 
removed,  and  one  by  one  returned  to  him.  The  appearance  of  the 
final  fourth  betokens  his  swift  and  violent  death. 

Surprises,  strange  and  startling,  are  concealed  in  every  chapter  of 
this  completely  engrossing  detective  story.  The  horrible  fascination 
of  the  tragedy  holds  one  in  rapt  attention  to  the  end.  And  through 
it  runs  the  thread  of  a  curious  love  story. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         .         .         New  York 


MEREDITH  NICHOLSON'S 
FASCINATING  ROMANCES 

Handsomely  bound  in  cloth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  A  THOUSAND  CANDLES.    With  a  frontis. 
piece  in  colors  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 

A  novel  of  romance  and  adventure,  of  love  and  valor,  of  mystery  and 
hidden  treasure.  The  hero  is  required  to  spend  a  whole  year  in  the 
isolated  house,  which  according  to  his  grandfather's  will  shall  then 
become  his.  If  the  terms  of  the  will  be  violated  the  house  goes  to  a 
young  woman  whom  the  will,  furthermore,  forbids  him  to  marry. 
Nobody  can  guess  the  secret,  and  the  whole  plot  moves  along  with 
an  exciting  zip. 

THE  PORT  OF  MISSING  MEN.     With  illustrations  by   Clar 
ence  F.  Underwood. 

There  is  romance  of  love,  mystery,  plot,  and  fighting,  and  a  breath 
less  dash  and  go  about  the  telling  which  makes  one  quite  forget 
about  the  improbabilities  of  the  story ;  and  it  all  ends  in  the  old- 
fashioned  healthy  American  way.  Shirley  is  a  sweet,  courageous 
heroine  whose  shining  eyes  lure  from  page  to  page. 

ROSALIND  AT  REDGATE.    Illustrated  by  Arthur  I.  Keller. 

The  author  of  "  The  House  of  a  Thousand  Candles "  has  here 
given  us  a  bouyant  romance  brimming  with  lively  humor  and  opti 
mism  ;  with  mystery  that  breeds  adventure  and  ends  in  love  and  hap 
piness.  A  most  entertaining  and  delightful  book. 

THE  MAIN  CHANCE.     With  illustrations  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

A  "  traction  deal "  in  a  Western  city  is  the  pivot  about  which  the 
action  of  this  clever  story  revolves.  But  it  is  in  the  character-draw 
ing  of  the  principals  that  the  author's  strength  lies.  Exciting  inci 
dents  develop  their  inherent  strength  and  weaknesss,  and  if  virtue  wins 
in  the  end,  it  is  quite  in  keeping  with  its  carefully-planned  antecedents. 
The  N.  Y.  Sun  says :  "  We  commend  it  for  its  workmanship— for  its 
smoothness,  its  sensible  fancies,  and  for  its  general  charm." 

ZELDA  DAMERON.      With  portraits  of  the  characters  by 
John  Cecil  Clay. 

I  "  A  picture  of  the  new  West,  at  once  startlingly  and  attractively 
'  true.  *  *  *  The  heroine  is  a  strange,  sweet  mixture  of  pride,  wil- 
fulness  and  lovable  courage.  The  characters  are  superbly  drawn ;  the 
atmosphere  is  convincing.  There  is  about  it  a  sweetness,  a  whole- 
someness  and  a  sturdiness  that  commends  it  to  earnest,,  kindly  and 
wholesome  people."— Boston  Transcript. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


BRILLIANT  AND  SPIRITED  NOVELS 

AGNES  AND  EGERTON  CASTLE 

Handsomely  bound  la  cloth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO.     Being  a  Memoir  of  Captain  Basil 
Jennico. 

"  What  separates  it  from  most  books  of  its  class  is  its  distinction 
of  manner,  its  unusual  grace  of  diction,  its  delicacy  of  touch,  and  the 
fervent  charm  of  its  love  passages.  It  is  a  very  attractive  piece  of 
romantic  fiction  relying  for  its  effect  upon  character  rather  than  inci 
dent,  and  upon  vivid  dramatic  presentation." — The  Dial.  "  A  stirring, 
brilliant  and  dashing  story." — The  Oatlook. 

THE  SECRET  ORCHARD.   Illustrated  by  Charles  D.  Williams. 

The  "  Secret  Orchard"  is  set  in  the  midst  of  the  ultra  modern  society. 
The  scene  is  in  Paris,  but  most  of  the  characters  are  English  speak 
ing.  The  story  was  dramatized  in  London,  and  in  it  the  Kendalls 
scored  a  great  theatrical  success. 

"  Artfully  contrived  and  full  of  romantic  charm  *  *  *  it  pos 
sesses  ingenuity  of  incident,  a  figurative  designation  of  the  unhal 
lowed  scenes  in  which  unlicensed  love  accomplishes  and  wrecks  faith 
and  happiness." — Athenaeum. 

YOUNG  APRIL.    With  illustrations  by  A.  B.  Wenzell. 

"  It  is  everything  that  a  good  romance  should  be,  and  it  carries 
about  it  an  air  of  distinction  both  rare  and  delightful." — Chicago 
Tribune.  "  With  regret  one  turns  to  the  last  page  of  this  delightful 
novel,  so  delicate  in  its  romance,  so  brilliant  in  its  episodes,  so  spark 
ling  in  its  art,  and  so  exquisite  in  its  diction." — Worcester  Spy. 

FLOWER  O*  THE  ORANGE.    With  frontispiece. 

We  have  learned  to  expect  from  these  fertile  authors  novels  grace 
ful  in  form,  brisk  in  movement,  and  romantic  in  conception.  This 
carries  the  reader  back  to  the  days  of  the  bewigged  and  beruffled 
gallants  of  the  seventeenth  century  and  tells  him  of  feats  of  arms  and 
adventures  in  love  as  thrilling  and  picturesque,  yet  delicate,  as  the 
utmost  seeker  of  romance  may  ask. 

MY  MERRY  ROCKHURST.    Illustrated  by  Arthur  E.  Becher. 

In  the  eight  stories  of  a  courtier  of  King  Charles  Second,  which  are 
here  gathered  together,  the  Castles  are  at  their  best,  reviving  all  the 
fragrant  charm  of  those  books,  like  The  Pride  of  Jennico,  in  which 
they  first  showed  an  instinct,  amounting  to  genius,  for  sunny  romances. 
The  book  is  absorbing  *  *  *  and  is  as  spontaneous  in  feeling  as  it  is 
artistic  in  execution." — New  York  Tribune. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         .         .         New  York 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 
IN  POPULAR  PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-Jssues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra 
tions  of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth* 
'Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

THE  SHUTTLE,  By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

With  inlay  cover  in  colors  by  Clarence  F.  Underwood. 
This  great  international  romance  relates  the  story  of  an  Ameri= 
can  girl  who,  in  rescuing  her  sister  from  the  ruins  of  her  marriage 
to  an  Englishman  of  title,  displays  splendid  qualities  of  courage^ 
tact  and  restraint.  As  a  studv  of  American  womanhood  of  modern 
times,  the  character  of  Bettina  Vanderpoel  stands  alone  in  litera 
ture.  As  a  love  story,  the  account  of  her  experience  is  magnificent 
The  masterly  handling,  the  glowing  style  of  the  book,  give  it  a 
literary  rank  to  which  very  few  modern  novels  have  attained. 

THE  MAKING  OF  A  MARCHIONESS, 

By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

Illustrated  with  half  tone  engravings  by  Charles  D.  Williams. 

With  initial  letters,  tail-pieces,  decorative  borders.    Beautifully 

printed,  and  daintily  bound,  and  boxed. 

A  delightful  novel  in  the  author's  most  charming  vein.  The 
scene  is  laid  in  an  English  country  house,  where  an  amiable  Eng 
lish  nobleman  is  the  centre  of  matrimonial  interest  on  the  part  of 
both  the  English  and  Americans  present. 

N-Graceful,  sprightly,  almost  delicious  in  its  dialogue  and  action,, 
It  ii  a  book  about  which  one  is  tempted  to  write  ecstatically. 

THE  METHODS  OF  LADY  WALDERHURST, 

By  Francis  Hodgson  Burnett 
A  Companion  Volume  to  "  The  Making  of  m  MarchioneM." 

With  illustrations  by  Charles  D.  Williams,  and  with  initial 
letters,  tail-pieces,  and  borders,  by  A.  K.  Womrath.  Beautifully 
printed  and  daintily  bound,  and  boxed. 

,  "The  Methods  of  Lady  Walderhurst"  is  a  delightful  story 
which  combines  the  sweetness  of  "  The  Making  of  a  Marchioness/" 
:with  the  dramatic  qualities  of  "  A  Lady  of  Quality."  Lady  Wai- 
tierhurst  is  one  of  the  most  charming  characters  i\i  modern  fiction 

VAYENNE,  By  Percy  Brebner 

With  illustrations  by  E.  Fuhr. 

This  romance  like  the  author's  The  Princess  Maritza  is  charged 
So  the  brim  with  adventure.  Sword  play,  bloodshed,  justice  grown 
the  multitude,  sacrifice,  and  romance,  mingle  in  dramatic  episodes 
that  are  born,  flourish,  and  pass  away  on  every  page. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,      -      -      NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS   COPYRIGHT    BOOKS 
IN  POPULAR  PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra 
tions  of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

A  SIX-CYLINDER  COURTSHIP,  By  Edw.  Salisbury  Field 

With  a  color  frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher,  and  illustra 
tions  by  Clarence  F.  Underwood,  decorated  pages  and  end 
sheets.    Harrison  Fisher  head  in  colors  on  cover.    Boxed. 
A  story  of  cleverness.    It  is  a  jolly  good  romance  of  love  at 
first  sight  that  will  be  read  with  undoubted  pleasure,    Automobil- 
ing  figures  in  the  story  which  is  told  with  light,  bright  touches, 
while  a  happy  gift  of  humor  permeates  it  all. 

"  The  book  is  full  of  interesting  folks.  The  patois  of  the  garage  ia 
•used  with  full  comic  and  realistic  effect,  and  effervescently,  cul« 
minating  in  the  usual  happy  finish.' ' — Sf.  Louis  Mirror. 

AT  THE  FOOT  OF  THE  RAINBOW, 

By  Gene  Stratton-Porter  Author  of  "  FRECKLES  " 

With  illustrations  in  color  by  Oliver  Kemp,  decorations  by 
Ralph  Fletcher  Seymour  and  inlay  cover  in  colors. 
*  The  story  is  one  of  devoted  friendship,  and  tender  self-sacrific 
ing  love;  the  friendship  that  gives  freely  without  return,  and  the 
love  that  seeks  first  the  happiness  of  the  object.  The  novel  is 
brimful  of  the  most  beautiful  wo'rd  painting  of  nature  and  its 
pathos  and  tender  sentiment  will  endear  it  to  all. 

JUDITH  OF  THE  CUMBERLANDS,  By  Alice  MacGowan 

With  illustrations  in  colors,  and  inlay  cover  by  George  Wright. 
No  one  can  fail  to  enjoy  this  moving  tale  with  its  lovely  and  ar 
dent  heroine,  its  frank,  fearless  hero,  its  glowing  love  passages, 
and  its  variety  of  characters,  captivating  or  engaging  humorous 
or  saturnine,  villains,  rascals,  and  men  oFgood  will.  A  tale  strong 
and  interesting  in  plot,  faithful  and  vivid  as  a  picture  of  wila 
mountain  life,  and  in  its  characterization  full  of  warmth  and  glow. 

A  MILLION  A  MINUTE,  By  Hudson  Douglas 

With  illustrations  by  Will  Gref  e. 

Has  the  catchiest  of  titles,  and  it  is  a  ripping  good  tale  from. 
Chapter  I  to  Finis — no  weighty  problems  to  be  solved,  but  just  a 
fine  running  story,  full  or  exciting  incidents,  that  never  seemed 
strained  or  improbable.  It  is  a  dainty  love  yarn  involving  three 
men  and  a  girl.  There  is  not  a  dull  or  trite  situation  in  the  book. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,     -     -     NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS    COPYRIGHT    BOOKS 
IN  POPULAR  PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra 
tions  of  marked  bsauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cent?  a  volume,  postpaid. 

CONJUROR'S  HOUSE,  By  Stewart  Edward  White 

Dramatized  under  the  title  of  "THE  CALL  OF  THE  NORTH," 

Illustrated  from  Photographs  of  Scenes  from  the  Play. 
Conjuror's  House  is  a  Hudson  Bay  trading  port  where  the  Fur 
Trading  Company  tolerated  no  rivalry.  Trespassers  were  sen 
tenced  to  "La  Longue  Traverse" — which  meant  official  death. 
How  Ned  Trent  entered  the  territory,  took  la  lonrue  traverse, 
and  the  journey  down  the  river  of  life  with  the  factor's  only 
daughter  is  admirably  told.  It  is  a  warm,  vivid,  and  dramatic  story, 
and  depicts  the  tenderness  and  mystery  of  a  woman's  heart. 

ARIZONA  NIGHTS,  By  Stewart  Edward  White. 

With  illustrations  by  N.  C.  Wyeth,  and  beautiful  inlay  cover. 

A  series  of  spirited  tales  emphasizing  some  phase  of  the  life  of 

the  ranch,  plains  and  desert,  and  all,  taken  together,  forming  a 

single  sharply-cut  picture  of  life  in  the  far  Southwest.    All  the 

tonic  of  the  West  is  in  this  masterpiece  of  Stewart  Edward  White. 

THE  MYSTERY, 

By  Stewart  Edward  White  and  Samuel  Hopkins  Adams 

With  illustrations  by  Will  Crawford. 

For  breathless  interest,  concentrated  excitement  and  extraordi 
narily  good  storytelling  on  all  counts,  no  more  completely  satisfy- 
ing  romance  has  appeared  for  years.  It  has  been  voted  the  best 
story  of  its  kind  since  Treasure  Island. 

LIGHT-FINGERED  GENTRY.     By  David  Graham  Phillip* 

With  illustrations. 

Mr.  Phillips  has  chosen  the  inside  workings  of  the  great  insurance 
companies  as  his  field  of  battle;  the  salons  of  the  great  Fifth 
Avenue  mansions  as  the  antechambers  of  his  field  of  intrigue ; 
and  the  two  things  which  every  natural,  big  m?n  desires,  love  and 
success,  as  the  goal  of  his  leading  character.  The  book  is  full  of 
practical  philosophy,  which  makes  it  worth  careful  reading. 

THE  SECOND  GENERATION,   By  David  Graham  Phillips 

With  illustrations  by  Fletcher  C.  Ramson,  and  inlay  cover. 
"  It  is  a  story  that  proves  how,  in  some  cases,  the  greatest  harm 
a  rich  man  may  do  his  children,  is  to  leave  them  his  money.  "A 
strong,  wholspme  story  of  contemporary  American  life— thought 
ful,  well-conceived  and  admirably  written ;  forceful,  sincere,  and 
true ;  and  intenselv  interesting." — Boston  Herald. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,     -     -     NEW  YORK 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


&&£ 


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STORED  AT  NK  J 


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3  2106  00213  7146 


